Jak And Daxter: The War of Self
by Dark Grey Lord
Summary: An Au version of the Original Jak and Daxter storyline from Jak2 onward, with lottsa original twists. M for content, MA for select scenes which will be labeled thus. JakxDax.
1. Prologue: The Day The World Died

PoV Point of View

Please Read and Review

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Prologue

The Day The World Died.

For every age there is a time of trial.

The rocks faced such a fire before they were the strength beneath our feet.

The plants braved vast winds before their roots could give us life.

As a sage of considerable years, I have known only one such great ordeal.

Yet the hero it created was a champion of all time.

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The Day the World Died: Samos's PoV 

"I have known Jak since he was a very small boy. I have watched him grow and develop into the epitome of innocence and honour. I have guided, melded, and taught him, to the best of my ability. To make him into the shinning light he is today."

"...Yet I cannot shake the feeling, that I am condemning him to a fate worse than death. That through My actions, or rather, my inactions, I am effectively destroying everything I have created."

"Such thoughts weigh heavily on the mind. I remember the years before I came here. I remember the sight of him. The cold unfeeling eyes, the sharp unyielding hatred, and uncontrollable fury that lurked beneath the surface, just waiting to get out."

"I know what I am condemning him to… and it's slowly…tearing me apart. The knowledge that, it is not me who will be able to fix it, and soothe away his anger, and make him realise that not everything is bad. But the youth who I have known instant dislike for, ever since I met him… does not make my soul feel any better… nor does it heal my tattered pride."

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Chapter 1: Daxter's PoV 

Hey, folks. Daxter's the name, Chicks th'game. Or it would be, if there were any chicks on this lonely place cept' Keira.

Now don' git me wrong, Keira ain't nuthin to sneer at. She's got one fine lookin ass, an a wiggle ta match. Bu' Keira's more of a big-sis ta me than a way ta get laid, ya hear? But man, talkin about a sweet ass…ahem… aaanyway, movin outta awkward-city pronto!

Now, as ya may be wunderin, who the hell am I? Well, I'm the most manly piece uv eyecandy in the whole of Sandover! Well…cept Jak. Now, before ya' pull the whole 'But he's a GUY' thing on me. Trust me, I know.

Seein', as how it's sumthin' I've bin tryin ta come to term's with for the last couple a' years. Don' git me wrong, Boob's and girls still git me goin. But Jak… he's a different kind a perty, ya dig what I'm sayin?

…I guess it started abou' 2 years ago. I was aroun' 13. Puberty started hittin me, and kinda badly. I kinda started ta notice things, things I probably shouldn'ta but couldn' help, ya know? Little things at first… like his hair. I loved runnin my hands through it, it was just so… _soft. _Ya know, it started off by accident. One day we were just sittin lazing next ta the river. Next minute I kinda reached for it, curious for some reason, ta know what it felt like.

Next thing I know, I'm runnin my hands through it. He..kinda jumped. But I jus told him to relax..and he did. One of the things I like about Jak, is how much he likes me.

Now, unlike what alotta people think, I'm not really all that dumb. I know what people think about me, and underneath all the bravado n machoness I put on.. I..I know I ain't all that great. If I'm really brutally honest with myself, I wonder why anyone would like me. I small, skinny, loud and annoying. I..I'm a coward at heart. It amazes me that Jak sticks by me…

For years, it had been a real close friendship tween me and him. And I can' speak for Jak.. but for me at least.. it's developed a little bit further than strong like. I..I think I love the guy.

He likes me for who I am, trusts me implicitly. There's nothing I can't do or say to him. And he can make you feel on top of the world with just a smile… I know it must sound kinda sappy and 'shudder' '_gooshy' _But I really like the guy.

Anyway.. I sorta started strokin his hair, I couldn't get enough of the feel of it, the smell even. And he made ht most delightful little sounds. Low pleased little moans and groans. He was more relaxed than I've ever seen him in my life. The fact that it drew sounds from him was a plus. Cuz he's a mute. Weird sounds in his throat are all e' can manage. The fact that I could make him make those noises.. kinda gave me some sense of power. Not dominant, oh no. I don't think Jak would be into that sorta thing, even If I am.

'Sticks an stones may break my bones, but chains an whips excite me. So tie me up and throw me down and show me that you..well you get the picture.

After that, I did it as much as possible. I started ta notice things about him I never had before as well. Things like his scent, a rich deep earthy smell, kinda like cinnamon. I could **not** get enough of that aroma. And his body, for a fourteen year old he sure was built well. Perfect abs, hard chin, muscle all over, but not bulk, no. He was lean. So beautifully lean.

And his eyes…his eyes were like crystal. The purest blue I've ever slapped eyes on (if you'll excuse the pun) like a perfectly clear sky, only better. I love staring into them. They're like a mirror to his soul, and they say 'everything' his mouth can't.

His silence is different too. Silence is usually the one thing I can't stand. The one thing I abhor is boredom. And silence embodies that. Not his though, he listens to me, as I fill it. And he takes in what I say, silently laughs at my jokes. Always smiling at me. Making me feel wanted and alive like no-one else did.

I don't think he knows what I feel for him. And I don't know if I could ever tell him. If he reacted badly.. it would completely destroy me. I know that. He's the one thing that makes my life worth livin.

And one day while I was playin with his hair, he suddenly turned and grinned, kinda suspiciously. There was this, glint to his eyes. And as I opened my mouth to ask what he wanted, he tackled me.

Last thing I expected was to be on my back on the ground, then flipped onta ma stomach. I growled and made to stand up, then he straddled me. I froze. Didn't know WHAT the hell to expect. Then I felt his fingers. So gentle.._sooo_ good. I'd been complainin of sore shoulders all day. And I don't know 'where' the heck he learnt it. But he was a damn good masseur.

I.. melted into that touch. He carefully rubbed and smoothed away the aches and pains. And I never felt better than that moment. He just felt _soo _good. And that there was where the trouble started.

I've always been horny by nature. Just a side effect of bein the Dax-man I'm sure. But just then it was damn uncomfortable and awkward, and I couldn't stop the.. squeak of surprise that left me. He paused, and next thing I know, I'm flipped round on ma back, and he's _still _on topp'a me. I felt my face flush the warmest red I ever felt at his curious face. The look that said "What's up?" without a word. I managed to squeak "Nuthin!"

Then I shoved him offa me and ran like the wind, screaming "TAG!" with all my breath to cover the situation. It worked. Thank the precursors it worked. I don't think I could take it if he'd felt.. my 'hard' little problem. Not little in that way, cuz I think I'm quite big thanks very much!

An that brings me here. Hopelessly fallin for him, but in no position to tell him. Oh, being two feet tall, Orange and fuzzy don help. Last year, Jak got it into his head to visit misty Island. Where I got knocked into a vat of Dark Eco. It's a miracle I managed to survive the stuff. But it transformed me into an Ottsel.

A sexy as all hell Ottsel. But still two feet tall, and A hell uv a lotta small. Kinda made entertaining the thought of a relationship with someone five times the size of me a little hard. Still, there are perks to bein small an fuzzy. I get ta ride on Jakky-boys shoulder-plate, which is a sweet deal. And, there's this spot, right on ma shoulder blades, that's as sweet as all hell when stroked. It's like liquid crack. I kinda fuzz out when Jak touches it… mmm.

Only thing is, I dunno how ta tell him…I'm scared he might reject me. But hey, time tells right? …I hope.

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Jak was making heavy grunting noises. Hauling a large portion of a Precursorian Hover-Craft will do that to you. He had been hauling these large parts of metal through the forest to the Hut for at least two hours. 

Sweating under the scorching tropical heat.

All the while listening to Daxter's rapid talking, as he just talked for the sake of it. That also meant listening to his buddy complain about the heat, while 'he' suffered for it.

"C'mon Jak! Get a move on! This is the last part, and the faster we can get outta the sun and sumthin ta drink!"

The Ottsel neglected to mention that he was sitting on Jak's shoulder doing nothing.

The tree-line suddenly stopped, opening onto a grassy partition between them and the small village they lived in. A small place called Sandover. Beautiful in every way. Quiet, out of the way and relaxing. And the place he'd spent the last 10 years of his life.

He sighed, breathing in the cooler sea air. If he'd known this was the last time he'd ever see Sandover in it's current Pristine state, he would have savoured it all the more.

* * *

"Today's the big day, Jak. I hope you are prepared, for whatever happens. 

There goes old green and fugly, givin it the sagely crap

"I think I figured out most of this machine. It interacts somehow with

that large Precursor Ring. I just hope we didn't break anything moving it here

to the lab." Said Keira with a worried look, chewing a nail and holding a dirty oil stained rag in her hand."

And Keira givin it the Mecca-crap. Like we care, we just wanna see it work.

The comment comes easily for me.

"Easy for you to say! We did all the heavy lifting! Right Jak!"

I ignored his incredulous look, one which I read easily enough to mean.

"We? What do you mean 'WE'?"

Ooh.. one of the downsides of bein an Ottsel is the damn attraction to pretty things. I tried to touch the control panel. Only to get slapped back by ugly ass's big stick.

"Daxter! Don't touch anything! Though the Precursors vanished long ago,

the artifacts they left behind can still do great harm.!"

There he goes, always makin a mess of it. The big ass machine's just standin there beggin for attention. The big floaty ring across from it amplified that for frig sake! It looks really outta place though. All burnished metal on the wooden deckin in front of the Big-G's hut.

Keira saw fit to demonstrate her obsession for all things machine by defending the big metal hunk of crap.

"Or great good! If you figure out how to use them."

" I've had experience with such things. I know you can make it work."

And sagely again showed his general dislike for all things for drowning the mood. But.. Now I'm not normally all that observant. I can spot opportunity's for jokes miles away but details escape me most of tha time. But that time.. I dunno exactly what it was.. it was, like, a hint of somethin in his voice, as if he wasn't lettin on sumthin he knew. It.. kinda freaked me out a bit.

So we all piled into the contraption from hell. Now that I think back, it's deliciously Ironic. We _eagerly_ got into it. We actually willingly sealed our own fates by getting in. Jak reached forward for the large red gem in the panel in front of us. It's colour gave me the heebie-jeebies. It was pure crimson.. like blood. The precursorian around it's edges was blurry, and rusty though I was at the language. I managed to make out the writing.

'_The Heart Of Mar. All who gaze upon a heart of gold, know and cherish tales of old, for sooner than you might dare to think, the gold and brightness may start to sink. The only thing which can save a descent into darkness, is an anchor of opposing light. Mar.'_

Needless to say I was kinda freaked. And exulted, it's not everyday after all, that anyone comes across something made by Mar himself is it?

Then Jak touched it, and it sunk, and glowed an eerie colour. The control panel slid down and snapped open. A spherical device rose up, rings around it turnin lazily like a gyro-sumthin or other, Keira had one somewhere. The runes on it started organising themselves as I started talkin.

"Looks like Jak's still got the Mo-Jo Baby! Gimme Five."

Jak grinned at me and gave me the expected five, when Keira broke in.

"Interesting... it appears to be reading out some preset coordinates"

The ring started to spin, and suddenly there was a vortex sucking away at the bridge, tearing the wooden planks away, as a purple light that reminded me of dark eco poured from the tunnel now visible down the ring.

I predictably said sumthin stupid along the line of " Wow, look at that."

Before promptly wetting myself as a voice of menace roared out of the tunnel, and things started flying outta it.

"Finally! The last rift gate has been opened!

Clog-brain whispered somethin behind me I vaguely remember as "Ahh..so this is how it happened.."

Then that Hell-Voice again.

"_**You cannot hide from me BOY! "**_

Me? I panicked. I started pushin everything I could get my hands on. Gibbering the whole time.

What's this do? Or that! How 'bout this one! **Everybody!, Press all the buttons!"**

Pretty soon I regretted that, especially when the Precursor Rift-Rider started speedin down that tunnel like a bat outta hell!

"What was that thing?!"

"Hang on everyone!"

"YYAAAAAAHHHHHH! I want off this thing!!!!!"

Yeah.. like I said..kinda cowardly. Then the machine we were riding decided to itself, "Fuck his shit, I didn't sign up for no Fuck-arsing around in maniac time-tunnels! Fuck you guys! I'm goin home!"

Then it blew up, with us on it. I got separated from Jak. Watched Keira go one way, Green-roots another and Jak, away from me. Then I exited, around ten metres off the ground. Didn't take long to hit it. Last words I heard runnin through My head before I collapsed in pain.

"AAAAAHHHHH!!"

" Find yourself, Jak!"

I was holding a bronze-coloured pipe in my hands, all that remained of the machine. A vehement rage filled me and I flung it at the floor as hard as I could.

"Okay, I swear that's the last time I ever, EVER, touch any stupid

Precursor crap!"

The metallic clang surprising me. I noticed the complete over-use of metal, glancing around at the new surroundings, I noticed Jak. I ran over, worry flooding my veins with ice. Then he groaned and rolled over, drowning me in relief. Choking on the acrid stench of the place, I rushed to make sure he was alright.

"Are ya okay buddy? Jak?"

He nodded, clutching his head. I breathed a sigh of relief. Then my ears perked up at something coming from a group of guys in red armour.

"This is Red-Phoenix requesting permission to detain subject. Subject is dressed in blue cotton and is carrying no weaponry. Sending you the feed. He's violating the peace law, holding traffic. Detain? Over Blue-4."

"Roger that Red-Phoenix but no-go. Praxis wants this one for Erol. Orders are not to injure but to detain subject and transport to the Alpha-ORION research centre immediately. Over "

The major shuddered as this one was sentenced to hell-on-earth.

"Roger that Blue-4, Detain and transport. Proceeding with operation. Over."

That was what Daxter heard as he looked at the men in fear. Jak suddenly came to awareness and stood up. Remembering what had happened he leaped to his feet. Facing 6 men in confusion. They were dressed in a red-metal armour and the middle one had a strange black helmet, which encompassed his head. Instead of eyes there were several glass lenses of varying sizes and colours but all had one thing in common, they were all trained on him.

"You heard command! Detain the subject."

"Run Jak!" I proceeded to do just that, but the loud crackling sound followed by a thud told me Jak had fallen. Fear gnawed at me, and I ran. Then I stopped. Fear clawed at my stomach, and my conscience beat the shit outta me. Courage I didn't know I had filled me, and I turned, sprinting on all fours to them. I jumped, scratching at the bastard's face-plate.

For all the good it did me.

I felt a solid smack to my body, the brief sense of flying through the air, before I hit a stone wall and slid to the floor with a thump.

The last thing I heard, before I lost consciousness was a sharp chuckle, and the sound of booted feet stomping away. With a groan I saw black fill my eyes. Then I knew no more.

When I did wake up, it was shivering. Damn was this place cold! Especially after the tropical waves of heat that were common in Sandover. The metal everywhere didn't help.

I got to my feet, groaning at the pain in my head. When the dizziness faded and the sharp pain in my head subsided. I started to look around. I couldn't see Jak. They'd taken him and I Couldn't do a thing about it, guilt started to chew on me without give.

I don't know how long I wandered around in the dark, shouting his name. Earning strange glances from the few homeless people wandering the streets. A talking Ottsel isn't exactly common is it?

I narrowly avoided death. In my tiredness I didn't notice the Alley-cat until it was right beside me. I didn't notice it until the hiss emanated in the dark, and blinding pain blossomed in my sight. Instinct kicked in and I bolted. Faster than any cat could hope to match. I climbed the nearest drain spout and huddled under an overhand, near a grate in the wall. Glorious heat poured from the vent, probably some heating component expelling its exhaust. As long as I didn't breathe it in I would be safe and warm.

I lay there curled around myself, breathing harshly as pain and adrenaline fought for control of my nervous system. Before falling into an uneasy sleep in the open, unprotected, lonely and threatened by cold.

It was to be the first of many similar nights.


	2. Chapter 1:Ding! DIng! Welcome To HELL

Hey again, next chapter. Welcome to the research section of the Prison.

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Chapter 1

Ding! Ding! First floor: Welcome to Hell

Jak's PoV

I don't know what happened. One minute I was staring into some goggled guys mask, the next I woke up bein dragged through this place. I try to move, but the grip on my Arms doesn't loosen. I don't know what they want. No-one has said anything to me other than shut up.

I don't like this place. Its dark, it has this evil smell, and most of all. I can sense suffering. It pounded out of the walls, sending my instincts blaring to get out.

I got dragged the whole way down a long corridor, then into a lift. I when down for a while, then the lift shuddered to a stop with a deceitfully cheery Ding!

"You have now reached Level four. Please note that access on this level is restricted to code Delta-Blue. Unauthorised access inside this facility will result in immediate expulsion from the guard and an automatic death sentence."

Death sentence!

I got dragged into a clinically clean room. Small, 5 by 5 feet. With two doors. The lift one, and a solid steel one. It opened with a quiet hiss, and I got shoved through it. I was caught by more arms, stripped and tossed into a freezing cold shower, scrubbed clean by invading hands which ignored my fighting and set about cleaning me with single-minded determination.

Once I was clean enough for their 'standards', I was shoved through another door, and grabbed yet again. By this point I was very annoyed and tried to shove the hands off me. Hard.

Then.. Pain. It blossomed in my gut and floored me in one wheezing fall. I was picked up again, they ignored my pain, and dressed me in a simple tunic and trousers. Leaving my feet cold against the metal floor. I was shivering by the time they handed me to the other set of guards. Who marched me into a long wide corridor. Which felt slightly better than the cramped series of rooms.

That is, until I heard it. The sounds of hundreds of inmates. All of them groaning or muttering. Pod-like cells lined the walls on either side. Three up, and 20 along. There were so many. The pods had solid metal doors, with a glass circular window. At the end of the hall was a single re-enforced Precursor-metal door. That door made me scared. They dragged me along the corridor and tossed me into one of the cells, before slamming the doors shut on me.

I immediately started pounding on the door for them to let me out. But after ten minutes with no response.. I gave up and looked at the room. The walls were padded, everything was white. There was a toilet and sink, a harsh blue light from the ceiling and a thin looking bed, mounted on the wall.

I sat on that bed for a while, before hugging myself and falling asleep.

When I came to, it was to the sound of someone slipping something through the hatch on the door. It was a warm, watery looking porridge. But being hungry, I wolfed it down.

With nothing else to do, I was bored for the next hour, before I heard something that made my eyes widen and the hairs on the back of my neck rise.

A scream of pure agony echoed into the room. Sounding strangely muffle and distorted. But it was there. He hoped he never found out what was making the person behind that voice scream so much.

Unfortunately, Fate had it in for him, as he would figure out in later years.

Three hours later, and countless victims falling silent, the last one stopped.

The screaming stopped, and scant five minutes later, a clank indicated the release of his door-lock. Four guards in armour, Yellow instead of red, stomped in. Two grabbed him and held him, a punch in the gut for his resistance and they dragged his wheezing body out of the cell, the other two flanking them.

They dragged him down the entire corridor and through the large door. Into a small room with three doors leading off it. Each door had a plaque on it. He read them as he was dragged through one.

Experimental Bio-Mechanical-Enhancement.

Experimental Weaponry.

And the one he was being dragged through.

Dark-Warrior Project. He wondered why they would need a hall-full of prisoners for experimental research. Then, it dawned on him, in a more innocent fashion, that they were experimenting on _them_! And sub-sequently _HIM!_

He was dragged into another room. This on a large circular chamber. The outskirts of which, held around twenty cells. 19 of them were filled with sick looking men. To the side of the door, on the walk-way that ran the perimeter of the room, was a dead body. The man was bleeding from numerous wounds. But that wasn't the worst part. Oh no. It was what was with the blood that turned Jak's blood cold.

Dark-Eco.

They were putting Dark-Eco in people. More than you could safely handle even with other types by the looks of it. He had to have at least four E-Units crawling outta him for Precursors sake! His blood turned to ice, and fear jolted through him like a shockwave. He struggled violently, his surprising strength stunning on of the guards as he made a run for it, to fall to the ground in pain as an electric arc rendered his nerves useless.

And as he lay on the floor recovering from the after-shocks he heard the voice which would plague his nightmares for years. A soft musical voice. Filled with menace and the promise of pain. An _evil _voice. And through that voice he knew he would hate the owner. He was bodily lifted, and carried along a short walkway to the circular platform in the middle of the chamber.

He was flung onto a metal table, and was securely fastened onto it with metal shackles. While the guards exited the room, the voice continued it's slow drawling chuckle. Soft sharp steps sounded, as the person rounded to the back of me where I couldn't see.

Then the man leaned over the table and eyed me like a piece of meat. He stared into my eyes with silent curiosity, a soft smile on his strangely graceful lips. He couldn't be older than nineteen.

Glowing Amber eyes set into graceful features.

I instantly feared him.

"Well… it appears that I have someone… worthy of some attention for once. Such a pretty, pretty boy."

His voice was soft, melodious, belaying the instant gut feeling I got that he was not what he seemed. I didn't know what he meant, but the tone in his voice scared me. His hand reached up from where it had been dangling gently at his side. I noticed the lean muscles coiled tightly against the material of his clothing and realised that his soft looks belied a pure strength I couldn't match.

His fingers, _brushed _almost delicately, oh so delicately across my face, moving a lock of hair from my face.

"Such… lovely eyes. Tell me pretty-boy… what is your name? Don't be shy, I don't bite."

He paused, then grinned, his sharp teeth glinting in the harsh light.

"Much."

His voice was husky, yet still soft. I opened my mouth and tried to tell him that I couldn't speak. Willed him to understand, because I got the feeling that I really didn't want to make this man angry.

He looked disappointed when I wouldn't speak... 'hurt', almost... then he seemed to catch the hint.

"Ahh... a mute is it?"

I nodded empathically

"Well.. we'll have to 'fix' that then. Won't we? Pretty-boy?"

I looked at him in confusion, his eyes held.. a ..'glint'. A strange dangerous quality that had not been there before. He walked sharply to the console in front of the table, arms loosely at sides. He flicked a few switches and levers, and a heavy clacking hiss sounded. A large metal construct lowered from the shadowy depths of the ceiling. It stopped just over me. A mass of wires, tubes and cylinders. It extended, with each clack and click and hiss, it cam closer and closer to me.

A little curiosity tinged my fear as a long featureless cylinder came to a stop before me. I stared at it clueless, until with a hiss, it snapped open. My eyes widened in fear, and I began to struggle against my bonds, crying uncontrollable.

Three long metallic arms extended, Each tipped by a razor sharp needle, connected to the tubes high in the machine.

Then that man, that evil vindictive sadist man said a few words I'd grow to hate.

"Initiated Dark-Eco Injection Cycle. 4 E-Units. Carotid, Wrist, Thigh."

The needles moved smoothly to each of the directed places, and stopped, just as I un-tensed to see why they hadn't done anything, they leapt.

They didn't stab me. Not deep enough to cause injury, but they knew precisely how hard to punch and where to go. I was pinned to the table, for fear of ripping my throat apart.

Then I heard an utterly sickening sound. A slow slurping gurgle. I looked up, to see a sluggish black substance flowing down the tubes. I cried harder.

Those cries developed into full blown screams as a sensation of absolute agony swept over my body. My veins were on fire, my mind was ripped asunder, and still the machine continued to pump the vile caustic substance into me. It could have been seconds, it could have been hours. But when the machine finally stopped and the needles pulled out, I didn't know where the HELL I was or what was happening, save for fear. And a growing..

I'm not exactly sure how to describe it. But a hate, an anger so deep it couldn't be mine. Because I didn't hate anyone that badly. Not even Gol. Lots of people in Sandover thought Gol was an evil sociopath. But really it was his wives death that pushed him over the edge. I could remember sitting on the strangely coloured mans knee, once upon a time. Giggling in amusement as he made sparks of Dark Eco crackle over his hands to entertain me. As he lifted me into the air with him, and took me floating around, me and Dax.

Then one day.. he changed. He was constantly angry and hateful. He finally left in a few months to pursue Dark Eco for real. Then the whole blasted Silo mess happened.

But as I thought about that, I caught sight of the man at the console. A little smile on his lips. He had enjoyed it!

He walked over to me.

"Well, well, well… looks like you can channel well Pretty-Boy. Good. Because it means that I'll have lots of time to 'play' with you. Wouldn't you like that Pretty-boy? Hmm?"

I glared at him with a passion I'd never felt I opened my mouth to scream at him. But I couldn't. Because the second I opened my mouth, his was on mine. I froze, not knowing how to react. His tongue swept into my mouth, seeking mine, twisting my head up to meet his painfully.

When he drew back, his warm breath landed on my neck, making me shudder. I stared up at those eyes in fear as his low melodious voice whispered sweet lies in my ear.

"Oh.. I am going to enjoy you.."

With that, he clicked his fingers. The clamps on my arms released, and before I could think about escaping he picked me up, and crushed me against his chest, till I could hardly breathe. He carried me, with indescribable strength, to the last cell in the circle. And tossed me in.

"Yes. You will be quite some fun. Number 11."

With that he left, slamming the door behind him. I went to the bunk there, climbed on it. And rolled up into a pathetic quivering ball. And cried myself to sleep.

I could still taste him. And it made me sick.

The next three months, passed in much the same way. I'd get three meals a day. Pumped full of Dark Eco, The amount increasing every day, and that twisted man who I soon learned was called Erol, caused me pain then pleasure then pain. He twisted everything that could be taken as nice, and destroyed it. He whispered sweet nothings, and backed it up with a slap, a punch, a bite. When you were least suspecting it. I fear him more than anything else I know.

But at the same time, I felt my hate for him growing. My innocence was dying fast and flying faster with each passing day. By a month I was hoping against hope that Dax would come soon and save me. That's all I ever clung too. Daxter. The thought of him made me feel better. I think it's what truly stopped me going completely insane.

U..Until that day. On the second week of month 5..Erol..followed me. He came into the cell with me, the door behind him ajar. His soft voice spouting sweet sugar-laced lies.

" Go on Darling, escape. Get past me and leave this horrible place, like you so clearly want. No-one else can do it but you, or do you seriously think that anyone can save you? I gather from your expression that there is 'someone'. I…wonder who? I wonder why they haven't tried to find you yet? Or do you think that perhaps they just left you to die. Perhaps.. they didn't really care?"

I tried to block it out. I really did. His word's weakened my resolve. they… they nearly crushed my hope, it was still there… just burning less brightly. With a growl I shot forward, trying to get passed him.

'WHAM'

Next thing I knew, I was slumped on the floor against the wall. He stepped over, reached down and picked me up by the scruff of my tunic, holding me against the wall. He punched me again in the stomach. Hard. It hurt so much.

Then.. his hand slid to my waist, held my hip, and the other lifted my face, tears dripping down it to look at him. And he leaned forward and kissed me.

Again. And again. And again. He took whatever he wanted from me. Tracing the inside of my mouth, searching for something. And my resistance...died. I rebelled against the idea. But I was powerless to fight back. My resolve weakened. And by the 6th time he did it, I didn't try to escape. Just pleaded with my eyes for him not to kiss me again.

I hated it. I.. could never look him in the eyes after that. My pride was shattered. He hurt me, and hurt me, and hurt me, then.. he kissed me. Delicately. Gently. Carefully. Wiping away my tears, and muttering sweet nothings as he nibble my ears.

I hated the gasps and groans he elicited from me. Hated every ounce of weakness he forced me to show.

He broke me completely. With nothing but a kiss. He made me feel pleasure when I knew there should be only pain and disgust.

He...Broke...Me.

* * *

It's been months since I last saw Jak. This… place. It's so different from Sandover it's like entering another dimension. 

For a start, it's always cold. Biting tearing cold. I'd be dead if it weren't for the grates that filter heat from the heater exhausts.

I feel more like an animal than I ever did before. Even if I am an Ottsel. Before it was just my shape. I still ate like normal, walked around and talked like normal. Now it's different.

I prowl about unseen, stealing and taking scraps from refuse whenever I get hungry. People continuously mistake me for a pet. I've managed to make some clothes out of scraps of material. A blue vest. A patchwork of different fabrics.

I'm glad those lessons on sewing my mother forced on me actually came to some use. A pair of gloves for my hands and my goggles completes the get up.

I prowl aroun with a blade concealed in a holster on m'arm. Not that such a small thing would help me much against a normal sized Elf.

I'm makin a small amount of money, clearing out rodent problems for people. Rat's, mice, small mammals. The occasional small Metalheads. I'm quite proud'a my job. It's somethin at least, right?

I've made myself a belt of leather, out of a much bigger one. Cut it down to size, and wear it round my waist. I meld the Skull-gems I get into it. I've got 8 so far. Small ones, about the size of a marble. But somehow I think I started a trend.

There's this Bar I sometimes hang around. And I've noticed some Waste-Landers giving me odd looks. In the last few weeks I've seen a few of them sporting belt's similar to mine.

Difference being, that they're made of Metal-Hide. And they have proper sized gems.

Still, I know I had the original idea. Heh, makes me proud.

I'm still looking for him. Even if my conscience tells me I'm not doing enough, I'm still looking. Keeping my ears open. I'm beginning to lose hope. I hate myself.

I tell myself that I was too week to stop them. That I couldn't have done anything. Doesn't stop me thinking I still should have.


	3. Chapter 2: The Death of Hope

WARNING! The following chapter contains a scene of severe adult content. Non-Con/Mind-messing. IN other words, the following portion contains a rape scene. DO NOT read if you do not either Like it (Though who in their right mind does? Outside of the good storytelling part) or enjoy good writing skill (if I have it) You Have Been Warned. If you read this and get all prissy cuz 'hey I'm squeamish this makes me cry' well, tough crap. Don't make me sic Erol on you! Oh, and please review D Or.. refer to previous threat )

* * *

Chapter 2

* * *

The Death of Hope: The Birth of Rage 

Jak PoV

* * *

7 months. 217 days. 5208 hours. I've been here that long. And.. I can feel the Eco in my blood. It's.. changing me. I'm getting stronger, and more violent. I can feel.. a deep simmering rage, way, way deep inside me. It.. it scares me. To feel something that powerful. They've started pumping me full of 16 E-Units a day! That is an unheard of amount. 

Out of the 20 of us in this specialised 'project' only 6 of us are left. And I can sense the others dying fast. I _**need**_ to get _**out**_ of here. My hope is waning. Daxter hasn't come. Not that I really expect him to. He's a coward most of the time. But I hope against hope that he does find me. Because…I'm afraid.

Erol…he's…started…touching. Me. While he...kisses me. It's scaring me beyond everything. The first time he tried I fought back in shock, he quelled that with a well aimed punch, before lifting my jaw and kissing me, talking in-between breaths.

"Why...fight…it…it'll feel _good..._I…promise."

And he went right back at it. I felt myself go hard under his ministrations. My face flushed in deep embarrassment against his mouth. A small smile.

He whispered against me in a husky deep voice that dripped of lust. The way his words dragged sending shivers down my spine.

"_**Goooood…**_._much...much...better. See? I told you it would feel good. But you didn't believe me...did you?"_

I closed my eyes in defeat, tears dripping down them. That was last week. Yesterday.. he'd started touching me while I was under that machine. _Making_ me feel good, even with all that pain

It proved how sick he was. It proved how utterly fucked up he was.

* * *

MA Rape scene, skip if squeamish.

* * *

I'm really feeling bad today. I'm weaker than usual. The Eco is having an effect on me. My muscles are growing rapidly. But I'm soo tired.. 

To make things better, there's something weird about Erol today. His voice is slurred. His reactions delayed. And the looks he keeps giving me as he walks past my cell are making my instincts go haywire.

As I slide off the Table onto the floor, I dimly feel him dragging me to my cell. Following me inside. He turns and shuts the door as always. I brace myself for the upcoming ordeal. Expecting to be thrown against a wall. I was surprised, then. As he picked me up, I felt a tension in his movements. He threw me onto my bunk on my stomach. As I struggled to lift myself, he flipped me over, then with an agile move climbed to straddle my hips!

I stared up at him, my hands moving cautiously to his hips. Placed to push him away if I get too scared, knowing the punishment for it though.

Instead of looking happy he slapped me across the face, hard. His nails left deep welts across my face, and he grabbed my hands, and yanked them over my head, behind me. He held them there.

And just looked at me. I could see his eyes gleaming. And I tensed at his words.

"You're so beautiful 11. How could such a pretty face and innocent personality possibly get handed over to a complete fucked-up psycho like me?"

He stared at me with a mixture of lust a curiosity.

"I don't deserve anything like you…but I have you. And that's all that counts."

He grinned that sharp grin and leaned forward so that his hair framed my face, nose to nose. He hissed it at me softly.

"You. Are. _Mine."_

He closed the distance and kissed me deeply. It was enjoyable for once. Hot and fast, slick motion. It fucked me up. Loving this from someone I hated. It tore at me, it fucked up my mind. But there was nothing I could do. Was powerless to resist it… His breath had the tinge of something on it. A strong and spicy.

I think it's called Gin.

My hands made their way to tangle in his hair without my consent. But when I felt him stiffen against me, I snapped them back to my sides, fear behind my eyes.

"No it's…okay. Just startled that's all. You have very nice hands Eleven. Show me you can use them."

He somehow made the request into an order. I let my hands rise shaking slightly to thread into his crimson locks. Shivering at the silky feel of it against the rough skin of my hands. For a sadistic torturer, Erol kept himself in impeccable cleanliness.

As I threaded his hair and massaged the scalp underneath, his eyes.. lidded, he mewled softly. Actually mewled. It raised another shiver from me, before his lips met mine again. And the earlier fire re-ignited. His hands started unbuttoning the tunic I was wearing with un-erring accuracy.

He tore it off me and started on my pants. I got nervous. Unsure of what it was he wanted. Once he'd stripped me he tugged his own leather bottoms off with a little struggle. And looked at me with barely contained lust.

I should have guessed then. What he was gonna do to me. But I was naïve. He told me to lie on my stomach, and fearing punishment I ..I did.

His hands appeared on my hips, making smooth long strokes along my sides, up my back. I heard him spit quietly. A knee made it's way up between my leg's, forcing them apart. And then. The weirdest sensation of my life. Followed by a sticky coolness and a burning stretch. A gasp escaped my throat.

And he slowed, rubbing my back, shushing me, calming me down, when I finally adjusted and relaxed he forced me wider. I shuddered against the intrusion.

Every instinct in me told me to run. But I couldn't. There was nowhere to run. And he'd only catch and beat me senseless. Then he shifted behind me.

It happened quickly. A brief resistance, a hard thrust, an impossible stretch and a caustic burn.

I shouted out at the invasion and made to buck him off, but he forced me down, pushing all the way to the hilt. His body was pressed up hard against mine. And he whispered in my ear to get to my knees.

He stayed inside me though, adjusting to my kneeling form, pulling out slowly, and ramming in hard.

I shouted out, a hoarse sound of pain. I.. I can't remember much else.

I…spoke.

"Stop!…Please!"

He stopped. Tears streamed down my face. My throat burned. The Dark-Eco in my blood burning the muscles and sinews into what they should have been.

Then he chuckled and kept going.

I begged him to stop anything he wanted, but he kept at it.

Then, to my complete humiliation, and the death of every ounce of pride I had. He changed the angle. A few lousy degrees.

I went from fiery pain to throbbing pleasure.

He stopped when he heard that gasp. I felt his smile on my neck.

"Right..._there_ huh?"

And on there he hit it again. That spot that made my hard length throb and the strangest sensation of pleasure overtake my senses. I couldn't help the shuddering moan that came from my throat on that thrust. And every other one after it. He enjoyed watching my dilemma. Slowly jerking me off as he pounded into me.

After five minutes, he stiffened, and a strained groan tore from his lips as he shuddered against me, his length throbbed against that spot, sending me off as well.

It…it was my first orgasm. And I hated him for it. Even when I was riding a wave of pleasure. A subtle warmth filled me, then he pulled out noisily.

He flipped me over, lay against me. Licked the tears off my face, pouring that foul smell into my nostrils again. Kept saying what a good '_tight' _little experiment I was. Then he lifted himself off me with a single kiss.

Got dressed. And left me without a backward glance.

I…I cried myself to sleep again that night. But something else happened. Something…_'solidified' _ The deepest Hatred I have ever felt filled me more than he had before. And for the first time in my life…I wanted to hurt someone, to hurt them badly, to torture him as he had me.

* * *

End Rape Scene

* * *

It went downhill from there. Whenever I got angry, I could feel the Eco bubbling in my ears. An unnatural strength filled me, and crackles of purple energy ran over me. 

Months later I was curled up after he'd left. It was a stronger feeling than ever before. At that point something inside me finally died. My innocence burned to ashes. I stopped asking myself _why does he keep hurting me?_ And started pondering on how to kill him in the most violent way possible.

That night I made the decision.

He was NEVER EVER going to touch me like that _again_.

After that, I started killing the guards. They'd been brought in when I got too strong for just Erol. I killed 14 of them. Ripped them apart. Broke arm's, bit necks, tore at eyes, until they got me under control again.

He made the mistake after the injection one day. I will remember it to the end of my days.

* * *

MA Material Contains Non-Con Dark Jak/Erol

* * *

FLASHBACK

* * *

I can feel it. My body is in agony. I can feel it flowing in my veins. I can sense the rage. Feel the bloodlust gathering. 

I can hear the scrape of metal, as the guards drag me back to the re-enforced cell. I smile a little, kicking a leg almost lazily. The guard goes backwards, hit's the railing. I watch lazily as his arms windmill, fighting for balance.

I chuckle. And lash out. He falls. A slow drawn out scream. Then a sickening (To them anyway) thud as he hits the floor. I start to laugh. Giggling insanely. A grin stretched over my face. Even when they punch me.

'_It'_ was pleased. I felt lazy and sleepy as the flung me in. The door slammed shut with a pneumatic hiss, four solid _thumps_ indicating the locking mechanisms decision to work.

I walk to the bed, lay down on it. Sprawling without a care. The Eco feels good. I shudder as an aftershock ripples across my skin.

The locks retract. I look up. Eyes narrowing. The only other person who visits me is Erol. I'm surprised. This time it's the Baron. He has a steel chair in one arm.

The door locks behind him. Two thudding steps later and he is sitting in front of me. Scant two feet away. His single eye locked on mine. He talks. His voice deceptively soft. I know the power those arms can exert. Remember him dragging me off of Erol with relative ease. Beating me into submission after I had attacked the man fresh from the table.

He has a conversational tone. This bothers me. I… can't remember much of anything anymore. Too much time has passed. Sandover is clouded in mist in my mind, and Daxter barely comes up in my memories. I recognise this man. I don't know how or why. But his face is familiar to me. A long forgotten memory of an age long past.

"Erol tells me you can speak now?"

I narrowed my eyes at the name. Rage at the man rising to the surface. Teeth bared slightly. I nodded slowly. Not wishing to let him have the pleasure of hearing my voice.

I heard him sigh slightly. The expression confusing and angering me. I need no-ones pity!

"Then what is your name? I refuse to continue with this 'Eleven' nonsense."

This catches my attention. I have never been spoken to like that in my time here. No-one has given me a modicum of respect. I ground the word out slowly. My voice still not what it should be.

"…Jak."

A mechanical equivalent of an eyebrow rose at that. He chuckled, a low deep noise of genuine amusement. Not one of the cold ones Erol often came away with while he was on the table.

"That might upset some of our more 'devout' friends in the temple. Vegar especially."

He looked up at me again. His amusement fading. He became solemn and serious.

"Jak…the original point in all this…"

He gestured at me, the walls and the area outside.

"…Was to create a genetically superior warrior. A person who could harness the very powers of eco itself as a weapon. A Dark warrior, who could use a Metalheads own life-force against them."

His eyes became passionate, his fist clenching.

"You have been the most promising so far. You have adapted to the Eco. It doesn't kill you…beyond that, it's sad to say, you show no change."

Sadness entered his eyes as he looked at me.

"I'm…sorry all this has happened to you. I have never liked the idea of this, but something had to be done. The Metalheads are almost overrunning us, and I'm afraid my fear has caused me to make some irrational decisions."

He gestured at me. I twitched from my sitting position. My blood started to boil slowly, laboriously…_hatefully. _An _" Irrational decision!" _ An irrational fucking decision! The man had the utter Gall to say something like that!

"As such, I'd like to offer you a position in the guard and freedom from this place. This project has long been overdue termination. I'd like to offer my heartfelt apology and ask that you never mention this outside of this room…"

He stopped. Probably because he noticed me. And eye ticked. My breathing was ragged and deep. My fists clenched uncontrollably and I was shivering with rage.

"How…Dare you!"

He looked slightly surprised at my change. Purple crackles of energy slowly crawled down my arms. My fingernails lengthening slowly into razor sharp talons. I didn't notice. I didn't feel my pupils enlarging into pitch black chasms. I barely felt the pain, as the tips of horns grew painfully from my skull. Didn't notice my skin turn paler, my hair dye, and my canines growing.

He looked shocked, but there was a gleam of success in his eyes.

"It looks like I was wrong Jak. You have exceeded expectations. You…"

What I was I didn't hear. Because I grabbed him and slammed him against the walls. Twice my size, four times my weight. I handled him like a doll. Slamming him forcefully into the Titanium-A walls.

His hands closed over my wrists, and he pushed back. I pushed harder. But slowly he began to force me away. His brute strength only just better than my Eco-Fuelled one.

With a heavy grunt I flew into the wall. My head hit first and I fell to the bed with a soft thump. He was breathing heavily. Surprised by how powerful I was no doubt. He left, slamming the door behind him. I lost consciousness.

I awoke to an _extremely_ unwelcome sensation. That of a tongue in my mouth. I came to groggily, to find Erol on top of me, yet again. Breathing deeply. The smell of drink on him. An Idea came to mind.

I wrapped my arms around him. And started to kiss back, forcefully. I overpowered him, pushed him against the wall. Ignoring his confused sounds. Listening in glee to his groans. I ended his pleasure right there. And started mine.

I traced kisses and nips down his jaw line. Ignoring the faintly disgusted feeling of my conscience. The Darker being in me growled in pleasure. It was finally getting what it wanted.

Vengeance.

I ignored his whimpers and soft noises. And reached his neck, where the shoulder joined. And bit down, hard.

He cried out, started struggling, but by that time I had his arms over his head. And my body forced him against the wall. He pushed against me. Horrified when he felt my strength. I was still running on Eco.

I lapped greedily at the blood oozing from the twin punctures. Growling in pleasure as the sweet crimson life-force pooled in my mouth. He whimpered in half pain-pleasure. I chuckled darkly against him.

I'd been waiting for this for some time.

I'd long figured out Erol. He was Sadistic. He enjoyed causing people pain. Gained actual pleasure form the act of causing pain. I was faintly surprised when he groaned into my lapping. His hard-on getting harder. Soo…he went to both sides of it eh? Wonder how far?

The beast inside chuckled. Pleased. It wanted to find out.

My fingernails grew. Sharp talons instead of nails. I quickly transferred one of his hand's to the other one. Holding him with one of mine, I quickly divested him of the jacket, and the shirt underneath it. I turned him for a kiss. Letting him taste his own blood. He moaned into it.

I felt a faintly nauseating sensation when I realised that I was getting off on this. Then shrugged, not caring.

I traced a claw faintly down his chest. Lightly enough to graze, but not draw blood. He inhaled sharply, confused at he sensation. I traced light patterns in the skin. Reached up, and pressed harder. Traced a long line down his chest. Drew blood. He gasped sharply, groaning in pain. That gasp quickly choked off into a quite moan. I teased my tongue down the wound. Savouring the taste of blood. Ignoring the rasping quality my tongue had taken.

Another two cuts later, I turned up for another kiss. I kept up the alternating sensations for another ten minutes. Enjoying my payback. He was twitching, arcing into the slightest touch. Desperate for contact. I carefully avoided his cock. Forcing him against the wall hard. Denying him the contact he so desperately wanted. He tried thrusting, but couldn't get enough purchase.

He was desperate, quivering with restrained lust.

His eyes pleaded in their drunken state. I grinned malevolantly at him. Bathing in his torture. Much better than pain.

"You want something don't you?"

I was slightly amused at the teasing, husky quality of my voice. Watching the effect it had on him as I licked his neck. He nodded desperately.

"Why don't you beg me for it?…Hmm?"

His jaws tightened. Even drunk he still maintained a little dignity.

"…N…Never…"

I smiled lightly. _Really? _ I let my wandering hand slide ever lower. Watching his expression. Reaching his length. Feeling the iron hardness of it. Slid my hands between his leather bottoms, and gripped it, letting a finger slide easily over the tip, coated as it was with a slippery substance which oozed from it.

He gasped, his neck arching beautifully. I stopped. Denying him the friction he craved. He groaned and moaned most delightfully.

"…P…P..pl…_please….gods…just..mmm…"_

His voice was the sweetest thing I'd heard for a long time.

I let him slump against me, moved him onto the bed, ripped the trousers off with little effort. My horns and skin had appeared a while ago. The blood forcing them to the forefront.

I leached in the sight before me. Him layed out, quivering so beautifully, breathing deeply. Craving sex. I freed myself from my trousers. Almost took him right there. Before remembering something. I frowned lightly.

'S_hould I? I suppose so…he did the same for me…least I can do is return the favour, I'm not the cold hearted_..._am I?'_

A brief chuckle. I spit, tease him apart, wet him carefully. Other hand tracing his muscled tense body. He relaxed slightly, I slid an un-clawed finger in. He inhaled, tensing…relaxing.

The sensation is kinda nice. Warm, gripping. I can tell he's never had this done to him, despite how he does it to the other prisoners. I slide in a second, he wiggles a bit, twitching. Adjusting. I pulled my fingers out. Listening with a smirk to the quite moan of loss. Savouring the gasp as I pushed into him. Slowly, with pressure. His fingers found their way to my shoulders, gripping hard. He bites his lip.

I can't stop the growl that comes from my lips. Basking in the sensation. Pushing myself in to the hilt. Glorying in his soft moans and groans. Pull softly out, then back in. Hard.

He hisses in pain. I slowly pump in and out, he relaxes, leaning back. I hold his arms above his head, pinning him, fucking him. His legs are around my waist. I watch him shudder and moan. But as I look into his eyes. I see a small glint of realisation creep into them. A dark smirk crawls along my lips.

Memory springs into being. He suddenly rushes to awareness. Struggling to free himself. I hold him down, Crush my lips against him. Kiss him into submission. Bite his chin, peck the jaw-line. Steadfastly fucking him into the bed. He grits his teeth. Stopping the flow of glorious whimpers and sounds.

I growl, annoyed at this resistance. Then smile. Remembering previous occasions. I let my hips fall lower. Changing the angle of my fucking. I can feel him tense as I brush it. Then the choked off grunt as I hit it. Again and again. He whimpers.

Then as if the lock has burst, he's talking. Whimpering, moaning, gasping. I can hear the wet slurping noises. So can he, he's positively shaking in pleasure now. I feel him begin to tense. Know he's near. I stop. Completely. Hold him still. Press him against the bed.

He protests noisily. Struggling to move. Craving the movement. He whimpers and cries. I wait until I'm sure he's came down off the plateau, then start fucking him proper. Fast and hard, heated and strong. I grunt, shoving into him with all my strength. Enjoying his sounds of mingled pain and pleasure. He reaches breaking point, and again I stopped.

I chuckled deeply against him, listening to his cries of protest. Torturing him slowly. I do this again and again. Falling just short of letting him cum. Denying him the pleasure. He's crying with it now. Desperate for release begging me. I decide enough is enough. Move him against the wall. And start fucking him, hard, painfully, fast.

Growling, biting his neck, licking his blood. He gasps, spurting over me. But I'm not done. He's shuddering against me. His pleasure begins to fade. He can feel the pain now. I keep going. His cries of pain making me harder. His scrabbling at my back doing nothing. Kissing him hard, cutting off his noise. Licking his tears.

Whispering things at him. I feel him hardening again. Keep it up. He gasps, another feeble spurting. More pain than pleasure. I reach the edge. A roar tore from my throat unwillingly. I ram myself in him once more. Letting go.

My mind explodes, and I bite down. Letting the blood flow into my mouth. Loving the texture, the smell the taste.

I feel him struggle away. My spunk has traces of Dark-Eco in it. It's burning him. I smile holding him there. Still embedded firmly against him. A scream tears from him, and then he passes out.

Pathetic.

I pull out, nearly limp. Clean myself on his clothes.

I pick him up, fling him against the door. Buttoning myself up. Glancing at his unconscious naked and bleeding form. I hear the guards outside the room. Let my change shed away. Growling in pain. Lay back on the bed and wait.

The door hisses. Opening outwards. They leap back in shock as Erol falls forward. He reaches forward. Grasping at their feet feebly as he regains consciousness. They lift him, looking at me in disgust.

It finished it. A snort escaped me, followed by a high pitched giggling. That lead to a full blown laughing match. I flung myself out the door grabbing him again. Pushing them away. They reach for shock prods. I disregard them. Lifting him to my face with his throat. I growl at him softly.

"_I believe 'YOU' are the one who belongs to me!"_

I kissed him softly, and then flung him against the wall with all my strength. Walking back into the room. The door slams shut behind me. The room smells of sex. I lay back on my bunk. Giggling. I know I will regret that tomorrow. But right now. I'm savouring it.


	4. Chapter 3: Saving a Friend From Hell

Read and Review please.

* * *

Chapter 3

Saving a Friend from Hell

* * *

I sigh, shivering against the cold. The Jumper I'm wearing does little to warm me, despite the fur lining I've stitched into it. My belt has at least 34 Skull Gems in it now, Stitched into the bottom of my Jumper, Holding it in place. My knives are against my arms, comforting metal soothing me as I make my way along crowded streets. Narrowly avoiding death by stampeded. I snort at my own joke, ignoring glances sent my way. 

Of course they look at me. I seem strange to myself. I'm an Ottsel, a mammal about two feet tall. Kinda like a fox. But with a better bone structure that allows me to walk on two legs. I'm wearing a blue jumper, that stretches down my chest to my waist, Ended by a leather belt, studded by small yellow gems. Taken from the skulls of small creatures called Metal-pedes, The youngster version anyway. The jumper is constructed from pieces of blue fabric of varying shades. Leather on the elbows and shoulders.

My shoulders are embossed by armour. Small pads, made of the heads of small Metal-Heads. It's a style adopted by certain waste-Landers. I use it because the armour is useful for defending against the creatures they belong too. I have grieves and shin-guards made of the same stuff. I recently made myself knee-pads. But they're uncomfy, cuz they havn't been broken in just yet.

I make my way to my usual hang- out. A bar on the waterfront. I sit apart from everyone else. Everyone else being three people. And a loud-mouth guy who loves to taunt me. Blonde, stout. Strong, good rugged looking. An explosives expert. I ignore him like always. Jinx I think his name is. With a name like that and his profession I keep away. I have other things to concentrate on anyway.

A few day's ago I got a tip-off about Jak. Well…not a tip off as such, but a loose-mouthed guard who frequented the place. The other day he'd mentioned a guy he referred to as 'Eleven'. It matched Jak's description perfectly. Before he continued though, he noticed me and broke down laughing. It's a usual reaction, so I ignored it. He comes here every Thursday night. Tonight.

He comes in, like clock-work. Orders his usual drink. Takes a seat. The hours pass.

I finger my blades. I've been waiting for this opportunity for two years. In those two years, I've done things I ain't so proud of. I console myself by saying that I couldn' ta survived otherwise, Which is true… Don't make it any easier.

But… as long as I get Jak back…I don't care.

Most of my life I've been called a coward. It's cuz it's true. I'm not the bravest guy, I scare easy and I react on instinct.

But never has it been me saying it. I'm a coward. I...I actually did that. I failed to free my best friend in the entire world, and as a result get him kidnapped.

The guilt has been eaten at me ever since. For the last two years, I've ben gittin by, by pilfering what I can. Working on the side. I've toughened up. Watchin…waiting for any sign of him. And now I have one.

Blue eyes, Bi-Tone Hair. Greenish-blonde. Up in the Prison.

I waited for the guy. As he left his pals, I got ready. Let him go for two seconds before leaving to follow. I hugged the darkness. Making scant sounds. Wincing at his horrible, horrible singing.

Followed him to his home and snuck in. He never noticed a small rodent pilfering his access cards from his armour as he slept. He never felt the soft weight on his chest. Never had time to feel the blades slicing through his arteries. Barely registered pain in the three seconds it took him to bleed to death.

"That's for knowing where my pal is, and not doing anything about it!" I hissed at the corpse. I rooted the house. Taking anything of value. Looting the small pistol. Barely a pea-shooter to an Elf. But a proper Hand-gun to an Ottsel.

I rooted his clothes drawer. And removed a small box from inside my jumper. Before removing that. I ripped his clothes apart. Made myself a few inside pockets for my jumper. Stitched another layer on the inside. Stashed the money I'd found inside it.

I found a leather belt. Cut it to size, and donned it, full circle. From the large amount of left-over leather, I started cutting small loops. Stitched them carefully and strongly onto the belt. Wrapped it over my jumper. And looting the man of all the small-calibre ammo he had. To an Elf it was a bracelet. To the Ottsel, it was a bandolier.

I managed to sneak into the place. Got in through the sewers. Crawled my way through horrid shit and sneaked my way through corridors till I got to an access elevator. I looked at the card. B-4. Jacked the button and started down on the way. When I heard voices emanating from where I aimed ta go, I stopped the lift, hoping the talkers wouldn't hear. They were too busy talkin.

* * *

_**"Dark Eco injection cycle complete. Bio readings nominal and unchanged. Dark-eco storage system depleted. Please Re-stock system."**_

A silence preceded the announcement. The silence was broken by the panting of a man on a table, pained groans escaping his lips.

A growl emanated from a man who was half metal.

"I just sat and watched you pump 75 Eco-Units of Dark Eco into this …Boy who happened to fit the bill. Please tell me I don't have two years of torture on my head that didn't amount to ANYTHING AT ALL!"

Erol looked slightly chagrined at his superiors outburst.

"Perhaps, Erol if you hadn't spent quite so much time…fucking the poor bastard and screwing around with his head, we'd have a success. He's totally rejected every drop of eco in him. HE STARTED TO SHOW PROGRESS!! AND NOW? NOTHING!"

The man in metal raged. Punching the metal table. Leaving a small dent behind.

Erol had the sense to blush slightly.

Leaning forward the man-machine gripped the front of the man named 'Eleven's' tunic and pulled him to face him.

"You should at least be DEAD with the amount of Eco I've paid to have pumped into you Jak! You could have been brilliant. You could have changed this war!" He leaned forward, hissing into his face.

"But you havn't! You're a broken tool. But I made you! I will find a use for you! EVEN IF IT'S AS FERTILIZER!"

Turning to Erol he snorted and turned to leave. Talking before he reached the door.

"This project has been terminated. See that he is treated the same way."

"Sir! My men can't hold much longer. The Metalheads are advancing and if we can't come up with something new, we're going to lose a lot of people."

He paused, turning and lifting Erol by his neck, the younger man twitched in the grip.

"Shut your whiny mouth Erol! I've watched you drool over this boy long enough. You WILL control your men. I will NOT be remembered as the man who lost this city to those vile creatures! Move forward with the final plan! And finish off this 'thing' tonight!"

He released the man, who fell to his knees, clutching his throat.

"As…as you wish."

The Man in metal left. Loud clangs following every second step.

The younger man walked slowly to the table leaning over the occupent to stare into his eyes.

"'sigh' Eleven..where did I go wrong with you. You were going to be such a pretty little weapon. I'll be back later. I want one more 'session' before I need to kill you. I'll see you, pretty-boy."

And he walked away. A sinister chuckle echoing around the room.

I was creeped out, and annoyed. I wanted ta slap the guy for bein so god-damn...dramatic. I mean, even a '_bad_'evil-villain knows how to avoid cliché. Dayam.

Wait, back to Jak. Always Jak. Focus.

I activated the elevator, letting my sarcasm reign as it shuddered to a halt.

"Ding ding, Fourth floor, body bags, roach food, Torture devices."

It felt good to talk again. Being silent around people for almost two years kinda does that to ya.

I spotted a him shackled to the table. My heart went out ta the guy. He looked...terrible. Face stretched, scars lined his body, and he looked so dreadfully tired. I leaped across the room and landed on his chest.

"Hey pal, have you seen a guy calle…oh my…Jak? Is...is that you buddy? Pal?"

His eyes opened lazily, snapped wide open when he saw me, a rusty smile graced his face, then dropped as he almost succumbed to sleep.

"C'mon buddy say sumthin! Before 'Metal-head' and Nancy-boy get back here!"

At the mention of 'Metal-Head his eyes opened again. Narrowed to slits. I didn't notice, I was too busy tryin ta figure out how'ta loosen the manacles.

The he screamed out.

"I'm Gonna KILL Praxis!"

I never thought I'd be tryin to shut him up with his first words, but no-one came. So I reclaimed my hand and shushed him.

"C'mon buddy! Get with tha program. Gimme two seconds till I get these manacles off."

I turned to do that. But I stopped. Jak.. Growled. It was filled with pain and rage, and as I turned back I gasped.

His eyes.. the pupils expanded slowly, until his entire eyeball was a single black orb, staring out at the world with rage. His hair became a ghostly shade of white, greyish fur grew from his skin and with a groan of pain, horns grew outta my best buddies head.

I was scared shitless! I jumped off the table to get away and had taken one step when I heard something the brought me to a standstill. He.. tensed, and the metal.. solid two-inch thick metal, groaned and bent like paper. I couldn't believe it. When he jumped off the table in front of me. Before fixing his black eyes on me. I.. backed away in fear.

"Uh…Jak! It's me! Daxter..your buddy..your pal..Jak..please don't hurt me."

I backed away until I hit the metal wall behind me. He got down on all fours, the claws of his fingers clicking as he went. He came right up to me, his teeth bared, his breath puffed against me in sharp hot gasps. He lifted a hand. I slammed my eyelids shut.

I couldn't watch. He.. sniffed deeply the air. Then again, softer, more insistent against me. I stiffened. I felt his fingers slide around my orange waist just below my belt. I expected to get my head torn off at any second… but instead?

I got nuzzled. Yup, you heard me nuzzled. He held me against his face with incredible care not to hurt me, and rubbed against me. I heard a deep throaty purr emanate from his throat. And I had to choke down a joyous outburst incase he tried to kill me again. After a while he slowly and painfully changed back, blinking in the aftermath.

Still holding me against him.

"D..Dax? Daxter? Is that really you?"

His voice sounded so different it hurt. Deeper, hoarser. More pained than I could imagine.

"Yea buddy…it's me alright…you okay?"

He hugged me tight I felt his chest buck softly. He was crying!

"I'm…so... fucking happy to see you buddy…I though…I ..thought you'd given up on me...I thought I was gonna die in this horrible place without anyone...but."

And here he lifted me so I could see his eyes watering with tears.

"You came." He said simply.

"You came back for me…Thank you…Thank you soo much Dax."

He hugged me again. I felt…warm. His emotion soothed and stoked my guilt. I hadn't found him for a long time, but I had. And that was all that mattered to him. I felt safe again.

"You're..ah..welcome. Any time Pal.. you can depend on me... I'm through running away. Let's get you outta here Jak. I got'ya sum clothes in that elevator."

His smile made my heart leep. His face seemed fuller. And he ripped off the tattered prison garb as he headed to the elevator. My eyes widened as I watched. Sleek muscled limb's and I thought to myself.

What. A. Wonderful. Ass.

I managed to break free of my spazmo gawping act before he came back thank god. He put me on his shoulder plate and headed to a particular block of cells. Wondering what he was doing, I was about to ask when he leaped. 12 feet. Straight up.

I could only whisper.

"What the _hell_ did they do to ya in here Jak?"

He just nodded at the machine in the centre I noticed the needles, and my eyes widened. But I nearly had a heart attack when he said those two words.

"Dark-Eco."

"W..What? Those…twisted…_evil_ sicko…._bastards!"_

He looked surprised up at me. I was raging. Seething. The thought that they'd hurt Jak like that. _My_ Jak like that…

"_No-one fucks with Demolition Duo and gets away with it! Not if 'I' have anything to say about it." _

He looked surprised at my righteous anger.

"We'll get em Jak. We'll get em good. But first, let's get the hell outta this dump."

He nodded vehemently. And started running towards an open grate in the wall. A large ventilation duct.

He reached out and grabbed. The large fan spinning screeched to a halt. He jumped through. Ignoring the crunching noise as the gears struggled to get it back up to speed.

* * *

Somewhere deep inside the Prison. A guard noted the red warning sign on the grid. It labelled it as a jam. His eyes widened though when he saw where it was. Flicking through camera channels. The table was empty! He panicked, panning through screens until he caught a glimpse of an Elf running past. 

"Shit! Praxis is gonna have my head!"

He slammed a lever down.

* * *

**_"Warning! Warning! Warning! Prisoner escape in progress. Level B-7 Authorised KG soldiers proceed through Ventilation system. Be aware. Target is extremely dangerous. Proceed with caution. Level DELTA-B7 Warning in progress. Sealing all exits."_**

We pounded along , taking twists and turns. We ran along a narrow corridor, which was intersected by others. When we turned we came to the back of a KG guard. I shouted a warning to run. But Jak Kept going. As he ran past. He grabbed the head and twisted. Hard.

The sound of a spinal column snapping sounded behind me. He paused only to grab a string of grenades and a pistol.

We kept going. Two guards rounded the corner in front of us. Jak leaped over the first, a violent double-handed uppercut slicing through the air. The KG's head snapped up, blood fountaining from a gaping mouth before collapsing. As he landed in front of the second man. He brought the gun to bear against the mans face.

He didn't have time to look scared. Two shots. Blood spattered against the wall. The crunch of bone as he stepped on him. And we were away again. A lone intersection lay ahead. I drew my gun. Feeling nervous.

As we flew past an opening, we saw three guards notice us and run in pursuit. I grabbed one of Jak's grenades. Tossed it back. Turned and took careful aim. They rounded the corner.

'_Click_'..**BLAM**!'

The grenade detonated, barbequing the KG bastards. I grinned.

"Nothing like deep-fried KG in the morning eh Jak?"

He grinned back at me. More violent thrill than enjoyment. We kept going. Leaving a trail of bodies behind us. As I became used to the bucking shoulder, my aim improved. My shots took down a fair number that might not have fallen had I not been their.

I felt the thrill of being useful for once flow through my veins. Proving Samos wrong, soothing years of insults.

Jak jumped and reacted faster than he ever had. When we got out we were in a water bypass room with a window at the top. Water flowed quickly on the floor, draining the system of waste water. Dim blue-Eco lights lit the long passage. Fan's and vents everywhere.

We were makin for it when a voice sounded behind us. It was kinda waivery.

Jak turned, bringing an armoured figure into view. He fingered his gun nervously.

"Hands up!"

Jak complied. I felt anger rise. We'd got this far to be stopped by some rookie? Before I could stop it, my gun rose. A single shot was all it took. The kid's hand spouted blood. He dropped the rifle, clutching at his hand.

Big Mistake.

Reacting on my opening. Jak lunged forward. His hand jus.. shot outta nowhere. He lunged forward grabbing his neck and shoving him to the ground. He held him and ripped off the breath-mask. Revealin the face of a kid, not much older'n us, but still dressed up like a KG Guard.

It was that suit that made Jak kill im.

He... he held him under the water. He watched him struggle. I could not look away. Until he stopped kicking. And...The …_bubbles...stopped._

Only then did he let up. Only then did he let the body float away with the water. Only then did he turn for the exit.

I said the only thing I could think of. I turned on his shoulder. Placed a hand on the side of his head gently. Watched him visibly relax to my touch. I stared into his eyes. A bond forming slowly again after two years of absence. I'd grown up. Death is a part of things here. People die all the time. It…was just, hard, knowing that Jak had left that innocence behind as well.

"You've…you've really changed. Huh buddy?"

He looked at me, pain in his eyes.

"Yea…"

I never said anything else, just nodded and kept my hand where it was. He smiled a little, reached up to scratch behind my ears. Chuckled at the twitch I gave as he itched that special place. No-one had touched me like that for two years.

* * *

Aaaaaand Review! Pleeeez 


	5. Chapter 4: How Dare They!

Chapter 4

How DARE THEY!

When they managed to get out of the window, they discovered on the way down exactly how high three storeys is.

I landed heavily, that much I know. I felt the pain but ignored it. Making sure Daxter was ok. I spotted an old man and a young kid.

I walked over, straightening my back, tensing my arms, and becoming threatening and intimidating almost on instinct.

"You look like a reasonably intelligent man. I want some information. Where the hell am I?"

Daxter took the opportunity to speak like it was a drug. He smooshed his hand over my mouth. Nearly making me fling him away in response, before I told myself. It was Daxter, not... _him_. It took effort but I kept telling myself over and over again.

I was finally free.

"Aaah... sorry! He's new to the whole conversation thing."

I glanced at Daxter in annoyance.

"Well, my angry young friend, you are a 'guest' of his 'majesty' Baron

Praxis, the ruler of 'glorious' Haven City."

I knew the man was being sarcastic, but those words...crawled under my skin and laid eggs. Without thinking I had the man two feet in the air, dangling from my grip by his clothes. My voice, when I heard it was so bitingly cold it was a wonder it wasn't snowing.

"So you're saying I was... just a '_guest' In the good Barons Prison?"_

The man gave off no outward sense of fear, instead answered me calmly. It was good. I needed that calm. Had he angered me I wouldn't have been able to stop myself from ripping him apart. But his calmness... infected me.

"Inside a cell or inside the city... walls surround us both. We are all his

Prisoners."

I lowered him to the ground gently going so far as to smooth the ruffle of his robe a bit.

"Sorry." I muttered softly.

"Just a bit..._touchy._"

Just then Daxter jumped to the ground taking a few steps forward toward the corner leading to the rest of the city, before turning back to me to talk.

He didn't see, or hear the men walking round the corner. The squad of KG.

I didn't hear what he said, Even the old man beside me. His words faded to nothing, as I watched the first KG round the corner, look at him in disgust, and lift an ugly re-enforced boot.

There was a crunch and Daxter went flying. I ran to him, ignoring what the guard was saying. I reached him quickly, making sure he was fine. He hissed violently when I reached his left arm. It... was broken, bent at an un-natural angle.

Something… Something snapped. I couldn't take it. So soon after getting My best friend back, from escaping that evil place, and now _this?_

"By order of his eminence, the Grand Protector of Haven City, Baron

Praxis, everyone in this section is hereby under arrest for suspicion of

Harbouring underground fugitives. Surrender and die!"

And... neither could _**he. **_A growl sounded from my mouth, hunched over Daxter protectively. I could feel it coming. Flowing fast.

White-hot rage, glowing Hatred. It transformed. It blossomed into a deep Fury that I couldn't control. The change happened so quickly I didn't get a chance to scream at the pain before it took over. Before it grabbed the wheel and set all guns to kill mode. Cuz I could feels it's anger. It shared my memories. Dark-Eco flowed like water. Burning, racing through my veins. Filling my with anger. Overflowing. Bloodlust rising.

It wanted blood. Those men were going to die. Because one stupid ignorant angry man kicked an innocent little Ottsel in front of his Dark-Eco Pumped Mega-beast Alter-Ego. And he was going to _enjoy it_.

Daxter PoV

When I came to, it was to no small amount' a pain, I can tell'ya. But what I saw next left me not feeling it. I saw Jak, big dark and gruesome. In front of me. With a protective stance in front of me towards those guys. Before he'd turned, I saw sumthin in is eyes. It was a protective instinct. And when he realised I was hurt.

'Shudder' I don't think I've ever seen anyone that angry before in my life. The fact that it was in protection of fuzzy ol' me? That gave me a warm feeling. The feeling super-chilled.

The air '_**Vibrated'**_ with the sheer force of his scream of rage. One minute he was screaming death at them. The next... he was running at an in-Elvin pace. He cleared twenty metres in 3 seconds. Then the bloodshed.

A fist went straight through the first guy, swiped to the right. Neatly Bi-sectin him. Usin the momentum of it, he kicked the next guy in the gut, hopped as the guy doubled over, and brought his fists down in a volley-ball serve of death.

The crunch as his head hit the ground kinda let you in on what kinda condition his head'd be in. An unholy scream sounded from his throat and he whipped around, eager for more. Grabbed the first guy he saw, lifted him into the air with both arms, and brung him down fast.

Right onto the waiting knee which swung upwards.

He actually snapped the guy in half. Completely in half. With little effort. Flinging him away like a doll. Blood flowing over the streets.

He eviscerated the next guy, moved on, and snapped a neck. He pummelled the next guy into nuthin. The only one left was the one who'd kicked me. And the thing picked him up one handed. And hissed at him. But in that hiss, with great difficulty, it spoke.

"_**Beg him for forgiveness!"**_

To say I was shocked was a bit of an understatement. The guy was shittin himself in fear, glanced at me. Then a scornful expression filled his face. Sayin clearer'n words.

"Beg a rat for forgiveness? Not likely."

Bad move. Very, very Bad move.

"_**So be it!"**_

Darkie walked to where the other man lay eviscerated, And ripped out the intestines, tearing an intensely shrill screech of agony from the still dying man. He then ripped the other guys mask off, tearing his face in the process. I hoped ta god he wasn't gonna make im eat that...he didn't. He did something worse.

He wrapped them round his throat. Dropped him to the ground, and pulled. Hard. The man started choking. Eyes rolling, sputtering as he struggle to breathe. Scratching at Jak's hands, screaming more when his fingertips started burning.

Dark-Eco, Nasty, Nasty stuff.

He finally died. One last twitch. He fell to the ground. Darkie turned around to face me, grinning as if to say.

'_**Dark-Jak do good?'**_

Answer? ...Blood…so much blood.

It was everywhere. Saturated the street. I looked at Kor, to find the old man sheltering the Kids eyes tightly. No wonder. His face was whiter than it had been. But fear was not in his expression. He looked…'_Impressed_'?

At my look of horror, Jak's darker companions grin faded. Now...he looked kinda hurt. As if he'd gone outta the way to show he cared...and had it shoved in his face. Which he had... in his own mucked up way. He'd tried to show he cared by destroyin the threat ta me. Which is nice, in it's own sense.

It's just that...blood get's ta me like nuthin else. Long story from when I broke my arm as a kid. It bled a lot, and I'll never forget looking at that gush of crimson life-force dribbling away from me.

I looked up again to find him pilin the bodies in a heap, then incinerating them with Dark-eco, when he'd finished, there was nuthin but dust. He even got rid of the bloodstains. Before runnin back to me and havin a sniff, smiling tentatively. I gave a small smile back. And he relaxed. Danger averted, Jak reverted back.

"Ung….wha? Tha'hell?"

I thought carefully about how ta pose it.

"Um Jak?" He looked at me.

"We need ta talk."

He looked confused, but nodded. He looked at the rifle he had stolen, and strapped a leather belt round his waist. He filled it with ammo, the slung the weapon over his back.

Kor came along to us and handed Jak a card and walked away.

It said. "Dead-end alley in the Slums. Ask for Torn." Scribbled in pencil was. "He can help you"

"Thank you for your help, but I must get this boy to safety. His well-being is imperative for the future of Elvenkind"

"The kid? Looks kinda…scruffy?"

"There is an underground group raging war against Baron Praxis. Its leader, The Shadow could use fighters like you!"

Looking at me Jak shrugged.

"Way's the slums?" He asked.

"Um, that'a way! Ow!"

I'd remembered my broken arm.

"We'd better see if we can get your arm fixed up someplace, or I can set it in a splint."

I only nodded. Trying not to let him see my pain. After the gore-fest I didn't want him spazzing out over nothing.

So I quietly gave him directions, as he carried me around. In his arms. Not on his shoulder. I dunno what got into him. It's nice...but it feels weird. It's as if he's afraid I'm not really here. And that if he moves in the wrong way. I'll disappear.

I really needed to get some quiet time to… just talk with him. What I'd heard Erol talking about… put me on edge. Something happened to Jak in the prison. Something really bad.

He's smiling now. Hugging me. Laughing a little. But every time I look in his eyes. All I c'n see is pain. And it hurts to see him hurting. And... I can't really do anything. I... can't hug the guy, make him feel safe. I can't protect him…can't.

Not necessarily just because I'm an Ottsel. Also because I am...weak.

I've never been particularly strong. Never been fast. Never been smart...I've never excelled at any one thing my entire life. Except talkin, an makin people laugh. But even then. I can't make everyone laugh. I anger too many people. They reject me. The one person who's ever actually stuck by me was Jak.

And to see him hurting like this...and not bein able to do a damn thing about it? It…burns. I'm ashamed. I feel like I should be doing something… but I don't. I just sit there and take...take...take. Never give.

You might'a guessed by now, but I ain't exactly Narcissus, as much as I act like it. I beat myself about all the time. I… need to find something that can make me feel needed. I need to find something that'll make me feel useful. Cuz otherwise. I'm gonna tear myself apart.

I've gone a small way to helpin him. I've got a lot more ta give.

Jak PoV

I needed to find this place. A because right now I needed a place to sit and just relax with Daxter against my chest. I…know that doesn't sound quite right. But I don't really care anymore. I need something warm. Something…_good _ to hold, ta make the fear go away. To truly let myself believe that I'm out. B, because right now I'm shattered. Tired beyond belief.

Precursors! He…He feels so good… after soo long of having nothing…but glaring light and rough blankets. Warm fingers…with such cold intent.

He's honest, and good, and warm. He...fucked me up. Badly. He's managed to completely screw me over in every possible way. I _need_ to get away from him. To put as much distance between me and that utter _psycho_ as it's possible to do… I need to sleep with something other than cold. I…I need Daxter...he's the only friend I've got now. The only good thing in this fucked up world.

And if any god-damn fucking jumped up guard thinks they're gonna destroy the single fukin thread holdin my head to this world. _Then they're sadly fukin mistaken! _ When that guy...kicked him. I thought some part of me had died. Then he was safe again and it was okay.

Then…liquid fire running through me. Glorious anger, the pure unadulterated rage. It...It…felt so…good. To just let go. Let everything I'm carrying just vent. Even if the result is dead bodies and a disgusted Daxter.

When I…change… I'm still kinda aware. I can…feel what the other me is thinkin…see what he's doin. And what he's feelin…it kinda scares me. From my side, I know that I need a lifeline. But I didn't realise how god-damn tight I was holdin on till I felt that feelin through his eyes. Cuz…it was more than friendship…much, much more. And that frightens me. To need any single person that much. And I know it's real, Cuz he's animalistic in his thoughts. Subtlety is beyond him.

Erol screwed me over in so many ways.

I…I just need a hug…is…is that too much to ask?…Is it?

Anyway…Almost there...I can see the entrance...make out the dead-end.

As I walk past, I can feel someone watching me. My senses are hyper-active now. I can smell see and hear things I never imagined.

I ignore them, if they try anything they'll die.

I walk to the end and look around. I noticed a blonde woman staring at me. As I opened my mouth she walked over.

"What do you want?"

Her aggressiveness immediately sent me on edge. Unconsciously my posture relaxed, settling into a state that would make fighting or dodging easier. I allowed the predatory glint to enter my eyes, gave a snort at her behaviour. But answered anyway.

"We're lookin for a guy named Torn. Kor said you might need some help with kickin the Baron's ass back ta Metal-ville."

I let a confident grin I'd seen Daxter adopt many a time slide on my face. The effect was instantaneous. It put her off guard. Thank-you Daxxie-boy.

"Now, can you tell us where he is? Or are you just paid to stand there and look pretty?"

As usual Daxter had to say something. He didn't expect the result.

"Aww, lookit'choo you cute little fuzzy-bug. 'Sharp inhale' Is your poor pawsy-wassy hurt? Lemme help."

The change from alert and dangerous to gooshy in .3 seconds kinda stumped Dax.

"Heh, Heh, I know I'm irresistible but thanks anyway. Ya made my day."

A man emerged from no-where all at once. Slinking from the shadows and rushing him. Before he had moved though, Jak had sensed him. So he was prepared. He dumped Daxter unceremoniously into the woman's Arm's and turned to face the newcomer. I raised a palm almost lazily, caught his wrist. And squeezed. Hard.

The blade he held dropped to the floor. With a practised twist the arm was behind his back, and he was against the wall, with Jak flat against him. Knee sharp in his spine.

"_Give me one good reason not to see how many pretty patterns I can make with your blood on this wall!"_

The whisper was soft, almost sultry, but dangerous.

A chuckle escaped the figure.

"Congrats kid, ya passed Yer first test. Now get offa me before Tess puts one in your head."

As if to put paid to the idea, an ominous click sounded very close to my head. I slowly removed my hands from Torn and put them slowly in the air. Then, another click.

Daxter was on her shouler, pressing his gun into her head hard.

"Get you fucking hands offa him! Ya hear! Get that fuckin gun offa his heads or I swear on all that's good and holy, that I'll blow yer fuckin brains all over the wall!"

I was mildly surprised. Daxter was actually being helpful for once. His loyalty made me feel fuzzy. The woman froze solid. Barely moving when I pried the gun from her hands and turned it one torn. Daxter's voice had held so much rage it musta shocked her. You can usually tell if a person's serious or not from their voice. He sounded on edge. Just looking for…_an excuse!_

"Care ta explain why I go from 'trying ta help the neighbourhood resistance' ta bein threatened by a gun in 10 seconds?"

His silent glare fixed on me. He reached up slowly, and pushed the barrel away. Really slowly, gently. I was thankful, cuz part of me didn't wanna kill this guy over nuthin. And that gentleness, the slowness of it, is the only thing that stopped me putting a bullet down his skull if he'd jerked.

"Ta make sure you weren't some punk-ass kid with an ego-problem. But if you want in, you'll have ta prove yourself."

A slow lazy grin made its way over him. That quickly faded when he noticed the look I was giving him. I'd noticed the tattoo's. I nearly lost it there...then something nagged at me. He was leading a rebellion. The hate-glare subsided. I think he must of caught me starin at them.

"Name it."

He seemed a tad surprised, but covered it well, or so he thought.

"Hmm, get the flag from the abandoned tower in old town. Bring it to me and I'll let ya in."

I…snorted. A flag? Was this guy fucking serious? Oh my god… he was. Anger filled me and purple sparks crawled down my hands. Then it all faded away in a warm-rush.

I looked round to see Daxter on my sdhoulder, hand on my hair ta hold him steady. Gun in it's holster and one arm limp at his side. Mouthing 'Don't even think about it, that way GO!'. So I did. I let him guide me.

After winding thought the streets for a while we came to the heavy re-enforced door. The locks clanking out of the way and letting us into the air-lock. As we were cycled through it… it finally started to hit me.

I was…Free.

Daxter's PoV

When we got through that airlock I was feelin kinda nervous. Ghost-towns supposed ta be haunted by the people who got killed there. And not to mention harbouring Metalheads. But, I felt somethin strange coming from Jak.

When he got outta the room, he took two steps to the left and sank to the ground against the wall. A contented sigh escaped his lips and he sorta stared into space. I hovered a little away, unsure of what was happening. The he reached out a hand to me, silently asking me to go over. And I did.

He plucked me up and laid me on his lap gently. And man, does he know where ta rub ta make an Ottsel feel good. Within five minutes I was laid out flat on his thigh, arms legs dangling on some kinda Ottsel high. An I felt it help him too. I think He just needed some time to come to terms with the fact that he was out. I'd seen the cold in his eyes before now. Drowned by the happiness of seeing me. But as the minutes pass. I can see the hatred warring in his eyes.

Whatever they did to him. They hurt him badly. He thinks I havn't noticed, but he's been crying silently for the past five minutes. I… dunno how ta help him.

"What's…mmm ooh just there baby ooh… bothering ya buddy?"

My voice was soft. It's a tone I save for delicate or serious matters. Like now.

He started a little and tried to hide his tears. Cuffin at them like a kid. Cuz he didn't want me to see.

"Jak, I ain't lookin. Not if you don't want me too. I… I know it must've been tough in there… but your free now, what's the big deal?"

He stopped rubbin my back, and softly lifted me again, and laid me on his chest, my head underneath his chin, bits of a goatee I hadn't really noticed hittin my eyebrows. But I didn't complain. Partly, cuz I've been secretly wantin this for 5-odd years. Mainly cuz he took a shudderin breath. And started talkin, more than I've ever heard him speak at one time. His heartbeat steadied from where I was. The breaths came easier. He hugged me against him. And started talkin about stuff I knew he'd never share with anyone else. And it would never be forced from him.

"Dax…please jus listen to me, cuz I'm confused too. When you came… I was all out of hope. I'd given up completely on ever getting free. You were the one thing that kept me sane."

His fingers stroked my ears.

"You gave me something to focus on, something to hope for. That lasted longer than the idea that you'd come rescue me. That died in around a month. But, as they kept pumping more and more Dark-Eco into me. I…felt something."

"Dax… when you fell into that Eco…did you… _feel_ it? The rage? With me it kept getting worse. Anger at my situation. Rage at my captor. Hatred. It's… changed me Dax. And I don't like the changes. I'm not myself anymore. The slightest thing angers me. If I get tipped over the edge that thing inside me will get out."

He shuddered, and so did I. I remembered every Gory detail. But I'd promised myself a while back that nothing would make me leave Jak again. When he started talking again, it was in a quiet voice.

"Dax… what you saw wasn't normal. Normally… he's straining to get out. To hurt and kill and maim for nothing but fun. An insane bloodlust. I…I think I'd gone insane before you appeared. You brought me back from the brink. And… I think he knows that. I don't think he wants me insane Dax. Cuz… he _likes_ you."

"You've become something of an Anchor Dax. I…I don't feel angry anymore around you. At least not that I can't control. When your around…I feel…safer. Saner. You've become the only reason I'm still breathing."

As I listened with baited breath, his next words came out a hoarse shudder.

"And it scares me shitless. What he did earlier. It made things clear. If anything happens to you Dax…I think I'll go off the deep end. And I won't be getting up from the fall. In that place… I lost everything. And now the only thing left is You."

He fell silent. And I was stunned. Very confused as well. I think it all boiled down to something along the lines of. I care for you so much because everything else good got taken away. And if anything happens to you. You can say goodbye to Haven cuz Dark-Jak would tear it apart.

I didn't know exactly where that left us. But I put a paw on his chest, and turned around so I could hug the fella as best I could.

He just shivered against me. He slowly calmed down. I think this stuff's been weighing down on him for the last two years. So no wonder he was all Angst-Fest. I'd probably be worse. But I could tell there was one or two things he hadn't said. What-exactly that psycho Erol had done to him. So I bit my lip then asked in a soft voice.

"Jak?"

"Mmm?"

"Wh…what exactly did…they do to…you…in there…?"

As I kinda expected he tensed, his voice hard again.

"Why d'ya wanna know?"

"Cuz if you keep this in Jak…It's gonna tear you apart."

I pushed myself up so I could look him in the eyes

"I know you like a brother Jak. If you keep this inside… you're gonna rot. It's eatin at you already. Has been for all this time. I know nothin can really be done to stop it. What's done is done. But at least help me try to understand why you're like this now. Let…let me in. It's the only way I can help you."

He still looked uncertain.

"Trust me. Let me try and help."

He swallowed strongly. His jaw shuddered a bit before he began speaking in this small bland voice.

"I got tortured everyday Dax. Like clockwork. 2 O'clock dead. They'd strap me down on this metal table, and position those needles so that If I moved, I'd kill myself. Erol… the sadistic bastard is as much psychological as he is physical. As well as torturing you, he gets off on the idea that you need to force yourself not to move."

A shiver. He grows a little more confident.

"He pumped me full of Dark-Eco on a daily basis. Then, when I was exhausted. He…toyed with me. He… kissed me…whispered in my ear. Said all of these sweet, sweet words. And just when you were feeling better, he'd sucker punch me. He loved doing that. Playing on both sides of your spectrum."

His voice was so quite and the expression on his face made my heart clench.

"He…he told me you weren't coming, that no-one cared. That I was alone. That everything which gave me hope was a Lie. He made me believe it was a lost cause. He… he started touching me. Beat the shit outta me if I fought back. And he was _evil_ about it. Under those needles, body in endless agony. He…_forced_ me to…feel good. When I shouldn't. And I knew that. But I couldn't fight back."

I was looking at him wide-eyed. It wasn't helping, I knew that. He avoided my gaze. Tears softly dripping down his cheeks. It was the first time I'd ever seen him cry. I reached up with a paw, and wiped the tears away. Waited for him to continue. Didn't say anything, even though I was dying to. He needed to get this out. He looked at me, blushed slightly. Actually '_blushed'_!

"He…beat me. If I ever annoyed him, ever resisted. He beat the ever-loving shit outta me. Left me so badly bruised and sore that I could hardly move. And he still kissed me. I…stopped fighting back after a few months. Cuz I knew it wouldn't help me."

He stopped suddenly. Wanting to continue, but not able to. He slammed his mouth shut. And he didn't say anything for a few minutes. I just leaned back into his chest. Waiting for him to gather the strength.

"He….he…."

He swallowed, the tears dried up a little. And a note of rage entered his voice, underneath the pain. I could hear the growl.

"He raped me Dax."

My eyes flew open. _What the fuck! Shitshitshit…And I didn't do anything about it! Fucking shit on a stick!_

I quivered. He looked at me, confused. Guilt ate away at me, sure. But that wasn't it. I was…_soo aaangrry._ I wanted to storm the prison and rip the fucker to pieces. My grip on Jak tightened. My Jak. Nothing would ever happen to him again, not while I was around. I'd make sure of it.

He started talking again. His voice was so, so quite. And strained with pain.

"Every night. For months. And…that's not the worst of it."

I listened, horrified, but enraptured at the same time.

"He…I don't know how the bastard managed it…but…he made it…feel…_good…soo good._"

When I looked at him, he was staring into space. His lip being bitten between teeth. And he couldn't stop a small moan escaping. More tears. I didn't really know how being raped could possibly feel good. But the way he moaned kinda told me he wasn't bullshitting.

"That…was more than I could take. I was screaming at myself. How could I enjoy it! He was raping me for fuck sake! But…I couldn't fight it. I think that's around the time, the Eco in my blood started to work. I started getting stronger. More violent. Constantly raging. Until one time…"

A slow smirk spread across his face as he stared into the distance blankly. His fist clenched.

" I got my vengeance. Although by that point I'd almost gone insane."

He looked up at me then, a soft smile at me. Shy, almost.

"Then you came for me…"

He paused, searching for words.

"Thank you Dax…Thanks."

He cuddled into me. A deep sigh slipping out of him. He'd let go. I just snuggled against his warmth.

I don't know how long we just sat there against the wall, revelling in each others company. Must have been a few hours at least. I didn't care. And neither did he. I had my Jak back. That's all that mattered.

Torn's PoV

I followed them, wanted to get an idea of how they did. The way the guy fought was good. Too good. You can't blame a guy like me for being a little paranoid.

But what I was seeing now sickened me a little. I don't like to think that I'm racist. But I'm very firmly Hetero, what I was seeing screamed the opposite. But I made myself listen. And got the idea, that these two had known each other a long long time. Longer than an Ottsel's life span. It talked for god's sake!

I heard the guys name a few times. And knew it wouldn't be good. Erol always was a twisted bastard. Even when he was younger. I left them too it when he fell silent. Decided to wait at the HQ. I had work to do, and these two didn't seem like they'd move for a while.

Jak's PoV

I feel a little embarrassed now. I didn't mean to say so much. It might make things awkward if I blurt out what I'm feeling just now. But that's the way Daxter's always been. Always able to get me to do anything.

I…I've never thought of myself as gay. Even saying it in my head sounds really weird. I like girls. I like Keira, or at least I did. But as the years went by, I found myself admiring Daxter. I could ignore the teeth in favour of things I liked. The hair, his skin. The colour and intensity of his eyes.

All so…appealing. I thought the same thing about Erol for while. Then I hated him too much to notice.

I could never tell him. Even if I did, I have no idea how he'd react. No idea what he'd do. If he left me…I'd die.

At the same time, even if he did return my feelings. I get the feeling he may be a bit too small for me, both ways. Heh. I can imagine both sides of the argument. 'Is it in yet?' 'Oh my god! That's my spleen!'

'Wince' Best not to think about that. I lift my hand, running one hand over his fur. It's so soft…and he's so warm.

I didn't notice when I fell asleep. I woke when I felt him shivering against me. I didn't feel the cold so much anymore.

"Dax?"

I whispered it. Blue eyes looked up at me.

"W..W..wh..what?"

I lifted him, ignoring his pathetic mewl as he was moved away from the heat. I lifted my shirt a little and bundled him in, wrapping him in my arm's. I felt a lump in my throat when he froze. Then he relaxed, curling up against me. And the warm fuzzy feeling banished the cold. Even though his bandolier and belt were digging into me slightly. I made a note to inquire as to what they were.

I looked around, noticed ruined buildings nearby. I made for them, ears pricked for any sound coming from anywhere else. I slowly nudged debris away from the metal door of a mostly intact one. And pushed against it. Growling and forcing it harder when it jammed.

I managed to open it, then shut it behind me. I noticed the wrecked furniture. Broken tables and chairs. Glanced around the room. Apart from that, it was mostly intact. A few dents in the wall. And the windows were smashed. But that was the extent of the damage. I made my way to the old burning stove, picking up spare wood as I went. After it was full I dragged a mostly intact couch over to it. Boarded up the windows as best I could, and shut the doors. Jamming them with whatever was available.

When I thought it was at least somewhat secure. I Focused on my hand. Dark-Eco gathered in a small sphere. I winced at the feeling and let it flow onto the wood. It hissed, burning it. The wood caught the flame, and quickly there spread a cheerful fire. Within minutes it was nice and cosy in our corner, and I moved the cushions to the floor, and laid down on the floor, next to the fire.

I fashioned a splint for his arm, from some wood and ripped curtain. Made sure his arm was okay then tried to sleep.

Once he warmed up a bit, Daxter wiggled his way out of my tunic, to my disappointment, before snuggling back against my chest. I suddenly noticed the amount of times I've mentioned the word 'snuggled' today and winced a little.

I pulled him against me with one arm, draped over him lightly, and slightly protectively. And for the first time in months, I fell asleep easily.

Please read and review. Also note, that I have went through each chapter with a fine tooth comb. I've added and removed some bits. And I think I've managed to swing the theme more in my original direction. I got caught up on the lovy dovy stuff. Not that this won't be romantic and smexy D Also, please check out this pic for the inspiration for 'drool' de la Ottsel. Minus the evil grin…P

http://tn1-2. anyone willing to draw a pic of the new and improved Ottsel? Would be cool…I wish…I have no fans…'cries'


	6. Chapter 5: Scailing a Tower

Read AND Review  


Chapter 4  


Scaling a Tower

When the Elf woke up, it was to the curious sensation of rumbling. He opened his eyes groggily, sitting up slowly. Then he chuckled. A deep reverberating sound as he realised the source. He leaned back down, moving over the small creature, until his mouth hovered above it's ear.

"Daxter?"

A groggy eye opened slowly, before shutting again. A deep slow breath, he yawned. Exposing sharp small teeth. He scratched his head slowly.

"What is it Jak?"

A grin slowly appeared and spread across the Elf's face. He chuckled again, taking the time to enjoy the situation.

"You never told me you…ah…'_purred' _Dax…I didn't realise you _liked_ me that much."

The Ottsel snapped awake. Jumping up and leaping away from him. An irrational fear gripping his heart as he panicked over whether or not Jak _knew,_ seeing the playful smile though he relaxed. Before irritation made it's way to the fore.

"Yea, you wish buddy. The Dax-Man don _purr_ for no-one! Ya hear!"

"Yea, yea." Jak waved a hand at his best friend placatingly.

He laughed a bit. Before sighing contentedly. It was the best nights sleep he'd had in over two years. A yawn shook his frame, as he stretched his arms wide, before relaxing against the couch languidly. Before realising with a start, that his stomach was growling at him. He rubbed it thoughtfully, wondering where he could get something to eat in this world.

After laughing a bit at his friend's predicament, though, Daxter came to his friend rescue.

"If ya'r hungry, there's this place quite close ta here that duz great breakfasts."

Jak looked over at the Ottsel, before sighing. He didn't have any money to buy anything. And he wasn't very good at stealing things. He proceeded to say so, surprised when the Ottsel reached into his jumper (Which he was still to inquire about) and pulled out a small wad of notes.

"Food's on me big guy."

He jumped up onto Jak's, hand against his head to steady himself. He noticed he was still wearing the cast and ripped it off. Jak tried to stop him but he was too quick. As it fell to the floor he flexed his arm. Jak was surprised to say the least. It was fully healed. Ottsel's apparently heal very quickly.

Something about that bothered Jak, but he decided not to complain. It was a good thing. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth.

Daxter took the time to reload his pistol, and for the first time, Jak gave thought to the KG rifle He'd stolen. He couldn't very well walk around in public with it without drawing suspicion, He'd have to find something smaller. The red paint would be a dead give away anyway. In the mean time he'd have to make do.

He ripped off most of the coloured components, as the weren't needed. And thinking it suitable for now at least, shouldered it. Looking up at Daxter, the duo nodded, and Jak stood and made his way to the jammed door. He shoved it open and stepped out.

"Ya know, while we're here, we should probably get what that guy Torn wanted eh? It'd be handy to be a member of a renegade element. At the least it'd give us somewhere to hide."

Jak nodded, then glanced around the remnant's of a City section. This place had been almost completely destroyed.

Jak wondered at the power of the creatures who had done this, before jumping as a hissing sound close by startled him. A small creature, green and long snarled at him from a corner of a broken down building. It's teeth were sharp, and it's body was strong, if scrawny with hunger.

As it started towards him, Jak un-slung the rifle and fired at it. Frowning as he missed, he fired again and again. Hitting it in the head third time round. He needed some practice with the weapon. Daxter snickered on his shoulder, and throwing a dirty look at the Ottsel Jak continued.

By the time they reached the far end of the dusty, damaged and Deserted sector they had killed five or six of the ugly monsters. When they neared the large dilapidated tower however something else happened.

With a roar, a small thing launched itself out of the ground in front of them. A large yellow gem glinted on it's metal head. A small compact, insectoid body, ending in a very large, long tail. Tipped by a wicked foot long blade. Serrated to cut through flesh and bone.

Jak leaped back instinctively, ignoring Daxter's squeal of fright. He landed hard, and was about to reach for the rifle when Daxter started firing. Fifteen shots later, the thing sank to the ground, more hole than body. A very jumpy Ottsel was on his shoulder. The claws making a screeching sound as they scratched the metal of the plate.

Wincing Jak reached a hand up to scratch between his friends ears. The Ottsel looked at him gratefully and calmed down enough to reload his weapon. He jumped down as they neared, rubbing his hands gleefully. He set off towards the dead body, pulling a knife from an inside pocket. Or more accurately, he headed for the yellow Gem Imbedded in it's Head.

Jak shouted out.

"Daxter!"

His sharper eyesight, not to mention affinity for the substance, had spotted the oozing Dark-Eco draining from the body. This however wasn't what bothered him. Dax, he knew, knew better than to fool with Dark-Eco. No, it was the way it was behaving which bothered him. It was waving softly, as if pulled by an invisible breeze. Towards him. As he got closer, it started to fly towards him.

Daxter was in the way. Before he could do anything, Daxter turned towards him, looking confused. It went straight through him on it's way to Jak. He heard the cry of pain, and the sharp look in his friends eyes. Ignored the slight pain as it sunk into his own body, and jolted towards his friend.

Surprisingly it hadn't done any damage, as he ran his hands over the warm fur, checking for marks.

"Daxter? Are you okay buddy."

Daxter just looked at him confused.

"Yea…I feel fine. Hey! Give a guy some room here!"

"Sorry." Jak muttered, looking away sheepishly. Eyebrows drooping slightly. Before he looked back, concerned.

"Daxter?"

The furry once-Elf looked at him, jumping to his paw's and taking a look at the dead Meal-head.

"You never told me you could channel?"

'What? I can't!'

Daxter thought to himself. He took a step back to Jak across the dusty ground. Wincing as his foot hit a broken fragment of brick. He looked back.

"Maybe cuz, hmmm…I cant!"

Jak just rolled his eyes. He was used to the Ottsel's defensive nature.

"Care ta explain what happened just there then? Huh?"

An emerald eyebrow rose, his arms folding and his foot started tapping on it's own accord.

A nervous look entered Daxter's eyes in the face of this Jak.

"Umm…okay! So maybe I can. It's not Like I know how to use it like you do."

A thoughtful look entered the Elves face.

"We'll have to remedy that then Dax. If you could use Eco…well it would be a handy trait at any rate. Let's go get that flag."

He gestured at the tower in front of them. Ruined and dilapidated, held together with spit and prayers. Surrounded by a lake of the toxic-sludge which seemed to seep into any area not sufficiently shielded in this destroyed sector known as dead town. The name was apt, describing the place perfectly. What could live here? Apart from the afore mentioned monsters of course.

After Dax had managed to pry the Yellow Gem from the beast, pocketed it and took his place on Jak's shoulder, they started to look around for a place to jump across. After a while of searching (A search which uncovered a few of the small Precursor-metal egg's which dotted the place. They managed to find a small bit of land, within jumping distance of the main land, from which they could get onto the tower.

Jak's jumping distance, that is. After one of those adrenaline filled 15-foot jumps, they made another onto the tower.

Jak landed with a thud, and before he had time to breathe, the block of rock beneath them crumbled. Barely making it, he jumped and grabbed a wooden pole sticking from the building. Thankfully it held. Stopping their no-doubt painful descent into the sludge below.

Warning Daxter to hold on, Jak flipped and stood on the pole. Using it to jump to another similar one, and leap from it onto a platform of rock. He repeated this a few times, each time getting to a higher point on the tower and eventually reaching the top. After he had finished the final jump, he walked over to the metal stand which held the flag, removed it and spun it. Striking a victory pose he jammed it into the ground. Wobbling when the tower started shaking violently.

He leaped forward, landed on a rope, and started to grind down it. Using the flag as a balancing pole. Daxter was jolted off. High into the air, before arcing and landing on the rope.

"WHAAAA!"

Jak suppressed a wince which would no-doubt cause him to fall, as the Ottsel bounced again, after striking a painful part of his anatomy.

"OOAAHHHHH!"

He jumped off the rope and landed softly. Grinning in triumph, as the tower behind them crumbled into the sludge. Causing a hail of toxic particles to hit everything around it. Daxter got to his feet shakily, and started bawling abuse at the tower, shaking his fists and spouting a string of violent and twisted obscenity's that caused Jak to blush slightly.

"Fucking useless piece of outdated shit! Your mother…"

After a few minutes of listening amusedly to his friends ranting Jak intercepted.

"Umm…Daxter?"

The Ottsel looked round, exposed teeth gritted, growling in anger.

"What!"

Jak winced.

"While I know that tower was nasty…and that certain things should never be known about the anatomy of _anyone's mother_, but we need to get this to that guy."

At that moment Torn stepped from behind a building.

"Well if it isn't an escapee experiment and a rabid rodent rat. Good work boys…"

What he was going to say was drowned out by three pistol shots near his head, causing him to leap away in shock. It was drowned by the roar of rage which came from Daxter as he struggled to escape Jak's grip.

"Leggo a' me! I'll tear out his eyes!"

"Get your fucking pet animal under control!"

Torn appeared beside them, his tattoo's standing out pale against his flushed face. He growled, a finger rising to prod Daxter's chest. Each word accentuated with a sharp prod.

"If you Ever, EVER shoot a weapon at me again, I'll make you into a scarf! Comprende?"

Daxter gulped in response. Torn backed off slightly, looking up to Jak. Eyes widening slightly as he saw the anger bubbling beneath the surface. His trained eyes taking in the way that the Elf's arms tightened unconsciously about the Ottsel, turned his body away from him slightly. Protectively.

A gruff crackly voice spoke to them. The first time they'd realised how bad it really was.

"Yeah…I guess you guy's are in. C'mon. I'll show you Headquarters."

Without so much as a backwards glance he started to head out towards the exit. Looking at each other, the two friends just shrugged, and followed. Jogging slightly until he was walking in tandem with the man. Jak spoke.

"Headquarters? How organised are you guy's?"

An eyebrow rose a few degree's as the older man turned to face him. Jak scowled, before twisting in annoyance. He waved a hand.

"Yea, yea…secret 'need-to-know' shit yea?"

A silent nod met the question.

"Help us enough and ya might get clued in."

They walked in silence until they re-entered the city. Funnily, it wasn't Daxter who broke the silence, as he was still nursing his injured pride. It was instead Jak's stomach. Who chose that time to remind it's owner that it was indeed, very hungry.

"Aheh.."

The eyebrow rose again. This time in amusement.

"You better get fed before 1100"

"Why?"

"Cuz there's a job waiting for ya. Meet me at the abandoned street at 11 and I'll brief ya in."

With that the man with a sore throat strode away into the throng of people. Weaving in and out expertly. Leaving Jak looking at his friend with a pleading expression.

Daxter chuckled at the expression.

"Oh ok. Let's get ya sumthin ta eat before yer stomach starts tellin ya how good 'Ottsel de la fried' is. Take a right here."

After 10 minutes of getting pushed around by jostling crowds, Jak's temper was beginning to fray. When a guy pushed him out of the way so he could get away it reached breaking point. He grabbed the man with the scruff of his jacket and' utilising his un-natural strength, launched him into the nearest wall. The man hit with a crunch, and slid to the floor, out cold.

He was given a wide berth after that. Once they'd managed to find the place, Daxter proceeded to butter up the waitress. Seats taken, and after enduring numerous 'remarks' about his body with a blank face. Jak finally managed to relax. Daxter was talking. He was relaxed, and things were going remarkably good.

It couldn't last.

After a small yet filling breakfast, they left. The Ottsel posing questions, and talking about things that he'd been doing while Jak was in prison. Jak was only half listening, being more preoccupied with making sure he didn't get trampled.

He froze as a shout emanated above the hail of people.

"Prisoner 607! Halt! You are hereby under arrest by order of Baron Praxis!."

Looking up he saw a red hover-ship above him. Three KG guards with rifles. One driving, and the other two were shouting at him. From behind them KG were shoving people out of the way. People started to panic, running lest they were shot.

Jak managed to mingle for a good few minutes, before he realised they were still on his tail. The first shot's came slowly after. Red-Eco infused bullet's screaming past him in a blur of energy. He sprinted, dodging into alleys and buildings. Shoving people out of the way mercilessly. Daxter shouted the Occasional instruction into his ear. Firing behind them, holding them off from coming too close.

Suddenly Jak ground to a halt. Why the fuck was he running?

With that in mind he turned on his heel and bolted out, running at the KG following him with a glint in his eye. A leap and downward stroke brought his rifle-butt down on the first KG's head with enough force to break his neck. The guard on their left got a bullet through the head, curtsey of Daxter.

The rifle dragged gracefully through the air on the way up, squeezing off three rounds as it went. A guard dropped. A bullet hole through the heart, the other was barely standing. The bullet's deflecting from his armour. Two head-shots remedied that. The cruiser crashed to the floor, the Driver being victim to Daxter's well-placed shots. Allowing Jak to blast the Gunner to kingdom-come when it crashed.

They were left in the middle of a circle of chaos. Breathing heavily.

Daxter grinned happily. But if Jak had looked carefully he would have seen that it was forced.

"If this is what you do for kicks Jak, I hate to see what you do when you wanna kill something!"

Jak smiled grimly. Knocking knuckles with his partner in crime. He rifled through the bodies. Getting a combat blade from one, and tucking it in his pocket. He removed two light-weight pistols complete with holsters and dumped his spent ammo. Taking an ammo bandolier and restocking. He took another Bandolier for the pistol ammo, making a cross on his chest with them. Once the pistols were strapped to his arms, he picked up another blaster and slagged the barrel of his de-painted model. He slagged the metal of the barrel, and the portion behind the focussing part. Using the red-hot metal and his keen eyesight, he crudely welded the part's together. Resulting in a rifle with literally no barrel. He fired a test-shot. Clearing the barrel of any excess metal from his makeshift welding..

It worked well enough. The blast was less concentrated, and didn't go as far. But the spread pattern was wide enough to make it useful. The crude operation barely lasted two minutes. In that time, Daxter had re-stocked on ammo, and relieved one of the red bodies of Shoulder-pad's, shin-guards and a helmet.

When Jak asked why the Ottsel replied that Jak needed protection. On pointing out that the armour was bright red and thus a give-away to theft, the Ottsel sighed, and walked over to the burning gun-ship. Two minutes, and a brief burn later, Jak was equipped with colourless metal armour.

The sun chose that moment to emerge victorious from behind the screen of clouds which marred the air of Haven city. A constant fog of pollutant gasses and other foul things which threw up a consistent smoke-screen. The sun shone brightly on the dead bodies which they had conviently forgotten.

"Jak!" Daxter shouted at his buddy, running on orange feet to leap onto his shoulder.

"Let's get the hell outta here before more KG get here!" His small furry arm gesturing at the carnage around them.

A roguish grin of agreement, and they were on their way. Once they'd emerged back on the main street, Jak sent Daxter to a Nearby stall selling large Trench-coats.

A quick purchase and adornment later, and Jak was able to pass as a citizen. Now that he thought about it, walking around with a gun and wearing clothes which liberally screamed 'UNDERGROUND RESISTANCE MEMBER: I HATE PRAXIS, WHAT'CHA GONNA DO ABOUT IT?', probably wasn't all that good an idea.

He was making his was through the miles of streets which formed the labyrinth of Haven when he saw something which stopped him dead. A poster on the wall, with his face. Showing him in his prison garb, carrying a plaque which read '607'. Many people paused on their busy walk's to stare in confusion at the Elf who had suddenly puched the wall for no reason. Before passing it off and continuing on their way.

Prisoner 607: known as Jak, suspect is wanted alive. Crimes includ; battery, murder, treason and

"Can you see it Dax!" Jak hissed to his companion. "They're making me out to be a murderer! They're putting a reward on my head for fuck sake!"

Dax just put a calming hand on his friends head, rubbing the scalp a bit.

"Calm it buddy, before ya pop a fuse. So Metal-man and Gayboy-wonder are after ya? If they git within 50 yards they'll be wonderin why that part of their head that normally holds brains is suddenly missing."

The Ottsel said calmly, fingering the hidden weapon inside his jumper. Jak smirked, happier already. Looking up he noticed all the Speeders flying overhead. With a powerful leap, he jumped onto one, flinging the driver into the crowd below, gunning the throttle and zooming away. Daxter just barely managing to stay on his shoulder. With a growl the Ottsel climbed down onto the seat, and seated himself their as best he could. Pushing into Jak's stomach to keep his position.

Jak looked down momentarily, raising an eyebrow slightly. Before shrugging it off and following his furry pal's instructions to get back to the empty alleyway.

A burst of maniacal laughter escaped from the Elf's lips, as he gunned the Speeder to it's maximum speed. About twice as fast as Keira's original model. It's similarity unsettled him.

He weaved in between traffic, took corner's at hairpin turns, and breathtaking speeds. He was startled when small soft hands stroked along his thigh's before tightening. Before he realised that it was Daxter, the poor creature looked like he was about to faint.

"What's the matter Dax?" Jak shouted over the roar of wind, his voice had a joyful tint to it. "I thought you liked speed?"

The reply was so soft, that without his enhanced hearing, Jak doubted he would have heard.

"I just said that to make you feel better."

Both eyebrows rose. An actual admission of fear from Daxter? Something about the Former-Elf had changed. Possibly for the better, judging by how the Ottsel had been helping him today. Now that he thought about it. Daxter had been acting slightly weird since the KG. Not 'weird' exactly, more…'Withdrawn'. He resolved to talk to him when they got to this HQ.

After another ten minutes of hectic racing, they came to the main-square of the slums. From there, Jak knew roughly where he was heading. Another few minutes later saw them arriving in the alley, skidding in mid-air to a stop in front of Torn.

"Cute. C'mon, we've got a problem." The Resistance leader gestured them into the wall. A gesture which earned a scathing remark from Daxter.

"Ooh, the big fancy Tattoo wonder must be a vampire Jak. He can walk through walls!" Two furry finger were stuck in a mouth and made to point out the way as Daxter did a comical mock-up of Torn's husky voice.

"Valk into ze vall Jak! I vish to Drink zure blood from the sanctuary of my sunless lair."

Jak had to stiffle a laugh. Instead pickin the Ottsel up and tucking him under his arm, ignoring the complaints.

Torn showed remarkable control, and completely ignored Daxter.

He snapped his fingers and spoke.

" Praxis no Access."

The wall shuddered, _thunk_ed inwards, before sliding into the floor. Leaving a dark hallway in front of them where there had been previously solid wall. As they walked through the entrance, the wall slowly slid back into position. Large mechanical constructs clicking and whirring away. When it slammed shut, lights slowly lit up. Illuminating a corridor about ten meters long. A single security cannon on the ceiling monitored their progress.

Solid metallic clunks indicated Torn's boots on the metal walkway. He led the way through the corridor. Ignoring the two intersecting doors. He led them to an elevator. When they were all on he spoke, clearly.

"Living quarters."

Guard-rails sprang up around the square of metal, before it sunk with a high-pitch whine. Torn smirked as Daxter inhaled sharply, his claws digging into Jak's jacket.

"Zero-G no for me!" He whined.

When it slowed to a stop, the guard rails slid down. A calm electronic voice sounded out, causing Jak's fists to clench and his muscles to tense.

"Level B-2, Living Quarter's"

Noting the Dark-elves distress Torn spoke.

"It's a standard voice-setting. C'mon.

They passed four doors before arriving at one. Torn opened it and gestured in. It was small, and spartanly furnished, but it would suit their purposes.

"Bathroom's down the hall, 7th door. These are used for long-time residents. Only you and Izy are here just now. Theirs a small dining hall at the end of the corridor. Get rid of anything you won't need and come back to the top floor. Just say 'Ground Level' and the elevator will take you up, it's the door on the right. Stop by the Armoury and get kitted up. Same word for the elevator."

After what had to be the longest speech so far, the Rebel-Leader turned to leave, before pausing and turning to pose a question.

"By the way, what's your name?"

Jak eyed the man and decided it couldn't hurt. He extended a hand.

"Jak."

Torn seemed surprised for a second before laughing it off. As he retrieved his hand he chuckled again and left.

Daxter shook his head. "What a weirdo." He muttered under his breath.

Jak looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. Daxter squirmed under the gaze.

"OKAY! So I'm a hypocrite! Who Cares!" He wave his arms around in frustration. Before grabbing Jak's ears and making him go into the room.

"Ow! Ow! Okay! Quit it! I get the idea already!" He batted playfully at his friends pulling.

"No you don't! You just don't get it! You're not allowed to point out my failings! No-one is! Cept me a' course!" The Ottsel Lorded it up, gnawing on Jak's ear playfully.

Jak mock growled, jumping on the bed, and grabbing his pal off hiss shoulder. Daxter went with a yelp, bouncing up on the bed before he found himself pinned against it by a very-large Elf. He struggle briefly, before deciding against it and sighing. Looking up with a raised eyebrow.

Jak just smirked knowingly. "Is that Soooo. Are you Surrre. you don't wanna re-think that previous statement?"

Daxter grinned. "Nope! I got you under my thumb Jakky boy. You wouldn't so anything if I didn't say so."

A deep low chuckle escaped Jak. "Is that so?" He leaned forward until he was inches away from Daxter's face. At that point Daxter started getting nervous. He started struggling more. Then yelped and started laughing helplessly as Jak's fingers moved and started working their evil on his sides. He tried to escape but every way he turned Jak's hands were there.

"NOOOOOO! HAVE MERCY! AHA! HEH! AHHHHH! STOP IT! I….i….i give…stop it."

Jak finally relented laughing at the way the Ottsel twitched even though he'd removed his hands, breathing heavily. A happy contented sigh escaped him and he leaned back against the wall. His hand found it's way to idly scratch Daxter's ears. The deep purring noise relaxing him more as he ignored Daxter's plea's.

"Aww, c'mon Jaaaak. You know I hate the 'prrrrr' animal 'rrrrrr' noises!"

His feet twitched, but he didn't seem to be making any effort to stop him. A knowing smile made it's way over his mouth, before thinning to a tight line.

"We can't stay here long, he said he needed us up there."

Daxter sighed, then agreed. He rumbled around in his Jumper. Removed the Skull Gem, some money and a few other odds and ends. He wanted to be light for whatever they did. Clambering onto Jak's shoulder. They made their way back to the elevator, an "Armoury." making them plummet one more level. A large warehouse full of weaponry of all sort's awaited them.

Jak took the opportunity to get a pair of decent ammo Bandoliers, in stead of the older ones he had. Stocked up on ammo. Of a Blue-Eco variety instead of Red. Red was good for disabling an opponent with brute force. Blue had shock-value. Making the opponent lose concentration as well as hurting like a bitch. Yellow burned, but not what he wanted just now. Dark-Eco only got used in bullets for sniper-rifles. So that if, on the off chance you didn't hit a major area, the Eco would take care of 'business'.

He motioned to Daxter to likewise change his E-Type. Red was okay for close range. But gun-fights are supposed to be the opposite. Daxter opted for Yellow. He was staring at one of the Sniper-rifles with a look bordering on obsession. Jak could here him muttering.

"If only I…"

A wave of guilt and shame rose up in his throat like bile. He'd always promised Daxter he would find a way to turn him back to normal. He'd grown so used to this furry Daxter 'being normal' that he'd forgotten. That needed to be remedied. He supposed he could perhaps set the Ottsel up on a far-away rock and let him pick off target's from afar, but that would take to much time. And Daxter might not take it as a nice thing to do, and more of a pity act.

Hopping on his friends shoulder, Daxter signalled his readiness. And with a nod the Dark-Elf headed back to the elevator. One hair-raising trip later, and they were back on the ground floor. A few seconds later and they entered the correct door.

The room was smallish. A table dominated it. Covered in notes and papers containing orders and information. Papers were pinned on every spare centimetre of wall. Pictures, tactical information, supplies. Everything needed to run a small army. And probably enough to keep a recycling plant going for years. Combined with the downstairs, that is exactly what it all looked like. Torn sat at the table. Going over a stack of notes, and writing on a rapidly disappearing piece of blank paper. Neat efficient writing. Small but easy to read.

Daxter spotted a tap on the wall. He jumped over to it, dropped his head under the tap and pulled the lever on the wall, saying. "Being a hero sure is thirsty work,"

What he said next was drowned by a shriek of disgust, as he struggled to clean his tongue. Instead of water, a filthy grunge was pouring from the tap. Torn spoke up.

"The Baron's latest attempt to flush out the resistance. He's blocked off the water to the slums. Killing thousands of innocent people for nothing. It's that kind of thing that made me quit the KG in the first place." He growled.

Jak simply nodded, patting Daxter's still choking form on the back.

Torn spoke up again. "Your first mission for us is to go into the outskirts and re-connect the water-supply. There's a folder on the door. It's got a map and detailed instructions in re-connecting the supply. Just move a few pipes and pull a lever. DO that and you can consider yourselves officially Resistance members."

Jak nodded before speaking. "Okay, how do I get to these 'Outskirts?'."

Torn looked up, quirking an eyebrow at the lack of area knowledge. "There's a large sewer pipe in the water slums, here." He flung a round transmitter at him. "That transmitter will open the door. Be careful, there's Metalheads outside the city."

An emerald eyebrow rose. "Outside the city? What about the security walls?"

"The gate takes you past them." Was the gruff reply.

"What about the Metal Heads?! It ain't no petting zoo out there... peeps be getting deep sixed!" Was Daxters reply, a little of the old cowardice getting the better of him.

Torn finally dropped his notes, standing up and bracing himself on the table to look at the Ottsel.

"If you're careful and don't let your fear get the better of you, you 'should' be okay."

Jak snorted. "Ex-KG? I guess that would explain your…charming sense of humour."

Torn rolled his eyes. "Get to the main valve and open it. If you survive, the slums will be indebted to you. If not, maybe we'll have a touching moment of silence in your honour."

Jak saluted and turned to leave with Daxter. The latter muttering under his breath as Torn returned to his notes with a tired expression.

"I'd love to give 'him' a 'touching moment'.

After an uneventful trip through the city, a hectic two minute run through a pipe without breathing to avoid the smell, and a minute of breathing in gaseous relief, the duo found themselves outside the city for the first time.

The area was acrid. Black soil everywhere, broken by the occasional rock. Split in a path by a series of metal walkway's. The walkway was lit by blue-Eco lights every few metres. In the distance they could see a dimly lit metal building. Drawing their weapon's, they set off for it. The first few metres passed in silence, before a growl and roar announced the arrivasl of a less-than happy Metalhead. The grunt charged for them.

A worthy tactic for an un-prepared Elf. Jaks rounds caused it to drop in spasmic twitches, as Daxter burned holes through it's armour. The combination of the two Eco's succeded where one could not. Looking at each other, they grinned before continuing.

15 minutes of running, fighting and jumping over broken sections later found them at the edge of the sea. A large three-story construct stood before them. The resonator in his pocket opened up the gate in the security fence, closing off the portion of shield wall breifly and admitting them access.

Taking the folder from an inside pocket of his Trench-coat and listening to Daxter complain about the coat, Jak set off to reconnect the various disabled components. Hour's later, a wet and thoroughly frustrated Jak, emerged from beneath a large machine grumbling and swearing.

"Fucking out-dated piece of Praxis's Junk! Work Precursor's Damnit!" He swore at it, a heavy punch landing on the metal. With a faint sputter, the various circuits and cogs and pumps within it started to work. Satisfied that the filter system was back online, he headed for where Daxter was emerging from another such machine. Coughing from the dust.

"When the hell did this place last get maintenance? I want overtime Damnit!"

He jumped back on Jak's shoulder as they both grinned, happy at finally being finished. They headed back up the ladder to the main Pipe-Assembly. An innocent looking Metal valve-head stood their, just waiting. Jak looked at Daxter, gesturing.

"Would you like to do the honour's, Oh noble Ottsel." He smirked.

Daxter was more than up to the challenge. "Why yes I would ignorant Peasant! "

He leaped off his shoulder and stalked over to it. After much pulling and grunting, Jak took pity and gave it a knock. The resulting spin sent the Ottsel up and into an Air-Intake valve. Jak inhaled sharply, worry eating at his mind as he heard Daxter's screaming echoing off the various pipes. Shouting out, Jak followed the noises down several levels, till they ended at a sealed pipe. A growl, and a twist later, and the soaked, freezing-cold and nearly suffocated Ottsel fell into his Arm's Amidst a flow of fresh filtered water.

He couldn't even speak. Frozen, soaked and bruised, he just curled up against his chest. Jak wrapped him up in his Trench-Coat, whispering nothings into his ear, as he left the facility, Job done.

A fifteen minute run later, amidst Blaster-shots against any Metalheads foolhardy enough to get in the way passed silently, save the thud of his feet. When he found his way to the pipe, he barely missed a beat, before he was running along the putrid tunnel.

When he emerged from the other end, the nearest unfortunate Elf found himself wondering vaguely why he was kissing Duracrete. Jak was beyond caring he simply sped through the almost deserted streets as fast as he could. Daxter started to perk up a little when they reached the Headquarters at around 2200 hours.

Jak dropped to his feet and walked up to the wall, realising he didn't know how the thing worked. He decided to just mimic Torn. Upon snapping his fingers, he noted a small red light blip on in the otherwise featureless wall. He repeated the password and the machine opened quickly, shutting faster as he moved past it.

He walked into Torn's Office, glancing around for something hot. He noted a pitcher of Coffee on the table, and taking a mug from a nearby counter poured some for the Ottsel. Forcing Daxter to drink the warm liquid, cooing slightly to the delirious Ottsel. Torn just shook his head in amusement. Jak had seemed very cold and brutish. He had slip ups, but the hatred burning away in his eyes let on to it.

When Daxter started to become aware of his surroundings, he took the moment to speak.

"The slum's water is back on! I'd love to see the heads roll when the Baron finds out!"

Jak just nodded. He turned, his small smile fading to a grim line. "We've done what you asked for, when do we get to meet the Shadow?"

Any feeling of pride Torn had been feeling collapsed. "When I say so, IF I say so! For just now, you'd better get some sleep. You're no use to us dead on your feet." He returned to the never-ending ever-growing pile of paper-work. Unable to contain the sigh of tiredness which escaped him. He jumped slightly, and his hand was halfway to his knife when he realised that the hand on his shoulders was Jak's. Looking up with a guarded gaze he snapped.

"What?"

He paused when he saw the glint of concern tempering the annoyance in the boy's gaze. The gruff reply shocked him back to reality.

"I'm sure I'll be of no help tired. But by the looks of things you're gonna fall off your feet way before me. I dunno, but no animal I've ever seen survives so well without the head functioning." The grip on his shoulders tightened in a squeeze fractionally, before Jak left with Daxter in tow.

Torn snorted gently to himself, continuing with his work. Rubbing his shoulder absent-mindedly.


	7. Chapter 6: Special delivery

Special delivery: Underground to Modern-Obesity-Incarnate

Daxter didn't complain on the way down the elevator. That in itself was a warning that he wasn't himself. The unfocussed eyes, and lack of conversation were another. Anger boiling in him like a volcano. He was pissed at everything in general. He ached from hours under old rusted machines, worried over his friends uneasy condition, and of course, there were two years worth of hateful, painful memories surging like waves against his mind.

They refused to stay at bay. He released a growl, and aimed a kick for the wall. Far from relieving his temper, it added pain to his list of woes. Clutching the Ottsel against him he made his way to the shower-room Torn had told him about. He could use a good hot shower to take his mind off things. The idea had him slobbering. He stopped briefly at their room to drop off Daxter and his coat.

"I'll be back soon buddy, just gonna take a shower. You stay tucked up, ya hear?" He muttered softly, while making sure he was comfy.

Deep blue eyes opened lazily, a lazy smile crawling over his furry face. "Sure thing babe…just…gonna…sleep. Night." He trailed off, eyes closing. Soft breaths deepened, then Jak left. An eyebrow rose of it's own accord as the word travelled round his tongue. Babe? Closing the door softly, he stalked to the shower-room. Rubbing his hands in anticipation, passing it off as another of Daxter's strange quirks. Only to discover that someone _else_ was taking advantage of his much wanted shower. Sighing he instead made his way to the kitchen a few doors down, not liking the idea of using a shower with anyone else there. He had too many scars.

It was medium sized, crammed with cupboards and drawers and tables. But it was surprisingly well ordered and maintained. Well equipped. He soon figured out the layout, and boiled some water for Coffee. Peeled some fruit for Daxter and grabbed a sandwich for himself. He put it all on a tray and left it to the side. He'd get it after his shower. As he made his way back, he chuckled darkly to himself. If someone had told him in Sandover, that he'd gain enjoyment from something as simple as 'making food' he would have laughed at them. Silently, of course.

He rubbed at his throat as a memory of pain washed over his senses. That had been a particularly painful occurrence.

By that time the guy in the shower had finished. Coming out of the door at around the same time Jak exited the kitchen. Eyes met, nod's were exchanged then the man went on his way. Jak made his way silently into the shower-room. Closed the door behind him and had a look at the place. It looked like the changing rooms in Swimming-Baths. A few lockers, benches, a sink with a mirror-cabinet. A toilet-cubicle and a wooden door. Soft curls of steam rolled out from under it, creating soft shapes and pictures in the air.

He managed to find a spare-towel in one of the lockers, and sat down heavily on one of the benches. He started to strip, starting with the boots, armour plating and gloves, and working his way through. Freshly stripped, he stretched. Enjoying the feeling of being out of the clinging clothes. Free of encumbrance, he made his way into the shower-block. A tiled room with a dozen or so shower heads. He made his way to one, and turned the 'Hot' tap all the way up. He allowed himself the pleasure of just standing there. Letting the stream of water batter down on his head, drowning out all noise.

Blank bliss.

* * *

Jak's PoV

I don't know how long I stood under the heat. Don't know how much time passed where I did nothing. It was great. The water didn't even feel warm for a while, then the caked on accumulated grime started to disintegrate. My hair slung damp around my shoulders. Head braced against the tiles. I let a sigh escape. Closed my eyes.

I only moved when the water started to burn, reluctantly turning the tap down, and cold on to compensate. Hunted around till I found some soap, washed myself. Scrubbed till my skin was raw from it. Still didn't feel clean. I feel the anger growing again.

Rising like a black tide, screaming away under my skin. It want's out. It want's blood. It want's death. And it's getting harder to deny it. Erol's face swims in my vision, Praxis's along with it. The two people I want to kill more than I want to live. I _hate_ them. Soo much. I can't think of the word's to describe how much I do. I want them dead.

I want them to _suffer,_ as I did. I want to cause them as much pain as they caused me. Strip the flesh from their bones, bathe in their blood. Blood is pounding in my head. My heartbeat in my ears. A steady drum roll. I can feel my nails biting into my palms. They've probably drawn _'it' _ by now. I need to cut them. I need _release_. I let it out. Punch the wall. The tile cracks, and the wall shudders a bit. That _hurt._

I can see the fragments of tile imbedded in my knuckles. The wound seeps something. It isn't blood. There's too much black in it for that. Too much purple. Too much _taint_. I watch it intently. See the crackles of energy arcing from it. Watch as the skin heals over. I can see the muscles under my skin. Moving as I tense. Muscles which shouldn't exist. Not even the exercises I did can account for them. I'm too strong. It's the Eco.

If I concentrate I can feel it in my veins. Travelling on the back of my blood. It's changing me constantly. Making me stronger, faster, more _efficient_. More like a killing_ machine_. Praxis was fond of telling me that I was _his_ weapon. He got more involved in the second year. After the _incident. _ He kept telling them to put more Eco into me. When it didn't have any effect. Cut me apart, to make it heal me. To see if the constant injuries and healing would make it change me more. It worked. It started making me stronger. Trying to make me capable of defending myself.

It worked I suppose. I feel grudging when I admit that what he did made me better than I was. But at the same time it made me worse. It's constantly trying to get out. Trying to kill indiscriminately. The only thing keeping me in check is Daxter. But even his presence isn't enough. I need to vent. I vaguely register the door opening, and someone else stepping inside. I ignore them. I have no wish to talk to anyone.

When I think about it, it scares me. The single fact has so much meaning for me I want to scream. It might like Daxter, But that's as far as it extends. It calls for blood, for pain. For _vengeance._ And what scares me more than anything is that…

I might not be able to control myself.

* * *

Daxter's PoV

I Still feel groggy. And sore. And sick. That trip through the pipes was scary. Really scary. I couldn't see, couldn't tell which way was up from down. Couldn't breathe. I kept shouting for him. I know I did. I don't know what I was screaming, and I'm kinda glad for that. I just hope he didn't hear it either.

I don't know if my pride could take it.

A soft hiss escapes me before I can contain it. My right thigh is _killing _ me. But it's getting better by the minute. I suppose the Dark stuff did something useful. Even that scar on my back is barely there anymore. Damn these doors are big.

On of the problems of being two and a bit feet tall is that nothing is made for you. Everything is made for at least two extra feet taller. It makes simple things damn annoying. Like doors. And light switches. Cupboards, drawers, tills, and grates…you get the idea. Getting inside places is really annoying. Having to wait for someone heavy enough to trigger a weight sensor for a bar is so demeaning it defies all attempts to describe it.

'Click' Finally! Blasted door's open. My ears tell me that the water's on. Good. My fur could really use a 'de-Havenising'. Oooh…wooden door. That's something you do not see very often here. Mmm wood. I always take the opportunity to rub those door's, you never know when the luck will come in handy. Superstitious I know…but in this place every little helps.

Mmm…hot water. Mmm…naked Jak…

Daxter stopped in his tracks. A soft tongue flicking out to moisten suddenly dry lips. A hard swallow. Deep glowing eyes trailed a swathe over his friends form. Appreciating every curve, every muscle. Every bit of hair hanging limply across pale skin. Well rounded butt, beautiful calves. A soft shudder shook the former-elves frame, as his eyes feasted themselves. And his mind spewed out dirty fantasy's on overtime. He bit his lip slightly, to stop from saying something stupid, or catcalling. As he knew that would freak his quiet friend out.

"Bad Ottsel! No freaky da friend. Naughty, Naughty Ottsel. You need to restrain yourself! …Mmm…restraints. Gah!"

Snapping himself out of it with a shake of the head, Daxter started padding softly over to Jak. Keeping his eyes firmly above the belt. Before noticing something so blatantly obvious he almost slapped himself.

…Holy shit.

The Ottsel stopped abruptly. Though his paws made nary a sound. Small pupils set in glowing blue eyes grew large. A jaw softly dropped open, revealing minute sharp teeth. The creature gulped, took a hesitant step forward, then another. Daxter paused again when he reached his friend. Eyes tracing each marr on his best-friend's back. Roughly in the middle, It was covered in thin, surgically straight scars. Thirteen of them. Making a circle on his back., roughly 17 inches in diameter. An X through the middle. The intention was clear.

A shivering gulp passed the former-Elf's throat as he reached out a paw onto his friends hip to gain attention. The result was instantaneous, and rather unexpected. Not to mention un-wanted.

With barely a breath of air, Jak's arm shot down of it's own accord. Strong finger's wrapped round the Ottsel's throat, muscles tensed, causing the former-elf to suddenly cease occupying his former position, and suddenly occupy a space on the wall. An arm pressing into his body, and fingers keeping him there. The other drawn back, muscles tight, fist clenched.

Daxter was abruptly aware of the area his head was leaning against, jagged edges marking the edge of the cracked ceramic hole. Any force would tear his head off. He raised his scared eyes to Jak's. What he saw made him freeze despite the warmth.

To say you hate someone, to feel that emotion is one thing. To hear it from someone is another. To see it in their eyes, reflecting your own. To feel it in their grip. To sense it in their intent…Is something entirely different.

Light blue eyes locked with darker counterparts. Sunny day, and stormy sky clashing. Then, the latter's pupils widened suddenly. Daxter found himself sliding to the floor, as Jak let go and fell backwards, scrabbling away from him to the other wall on his back. He curled up into a ball shivering violently, despite the heat.

Daxter got up slowly, rubbing his neck absent-mindedly. He took a moment to unruffled his fur from the encounter, then strode under the water. And started washing like nothing had happened. Within a minute or two, Jak uncurled slightly, eyes opening a little, fear palpable in his gaze. He looked slightly confused at his friends actions, but dared not move, lest he shatter what little remained of their friendship.

It didn't occur to him how silly he must look, curled against a shower wall, naked and dripping wet, whilst his best and only friend washed across from him.

"Oh precursors. Jesus Christ! I nearly killed him! Again! He hates me, he hates me, he HATES ME! …what the hell am I going to do? What can I do?" Jak's thoughts continued on in this train for the whole time he lay on the floor.

It didn't occur to Jak, that; after all they'd been through, Daxter would be hard pressed to hate him. In fact, Daxter was thinking about it just now. He knew Jak was angry, just not _how _angry. He could forgive the slip-up, after all, nothing had really happened. But he'd be sure to let Jak know that it wouldn't happen again.

"'sigh'…Mmm. God that feels good. Mmm…icky gunk out of fur makes Daxxie feel _good_! Kay…done! Now ta get Jak out of his freaky mood before he damages himself or me."

Finishing with his shower, Daxter turned and walked out from under the stream. Shaking to dislodge the water. After getting the majority of it off, he felt a curious tingling. Turning round, sure enough, Jak was looking at him. Daxter folded his arms, hipshot and looked at him. Eyebrow raised, foot tapping expectantly.

Jak gulped. Paws slapped gently against the floor as Daxter walked up to his friend until he was standing over him. Jak's head tilted. He reached out a hand, which Jak watched apprehensively. And tapped the Dark-Elf on the nose.

"We're pals right?" Daxter's voice had taken on that serious tone again. Jak swallowed, and nodded slowly. "Good. Now we like each other, we have no desire to rip each others guts out, right?" Another nod. "Good. Now Jak, I really don wanna have a fall out with ya, but neither do I really fancy the idea of becoming Ottsel de' dead."

He paused for emphasis, watched as Jak flinched and his eyes dropped and ears drooped. He reached out a furry paw, and tilted his friends chin up to look at him. Head cocking slightly. A sigh escaped the former Elf.

"Well buddy…just do me one favour." Jak immediately brightened, looking up sharply, air escaping headily as he replied breathlessly. "…What?"

"Just…try and control yourself buddy. And don't ever do anything like that to me again." His eyes hardened, eliciting another flinch from Jak. "We'll get em back." Jak bit his lip, and slowly lifted his arms out slightly in the universal 'Hug me' way. Daxter stepped into the embrace, and Jak squeezed him tightly.

"Sorry Dax.."

* * *

It was several seconds later, that Jak suddenly realised what was really apparent.

He was sitting on the floor of a shower-room. 'Hugging' his best friend. Both of them were wet. And he was naked. Not to mention that the fur, which was currently rubbing against his bare skin; was starting to have an 'adverse' effect on certain lower regions he was sure Daxter would not appreciate. Daxter felt the heat suddenly begin to emanate from his friend, as embarrassment of ultimate proportions suddenly gripped him. To be honest though, Daxter was rather enjoying the contact, but was careful not to get too _into_ it.

Jak swallowed. "Aheh…. Umm…could you.."

Daxter chuckled softly, nodded and stepped back, returning to a corner where the bar of soap had been forgotten. He tossed it through the air, "Catch!" And laughed his ass off as Jak grabbed it and went into a mad dance trying to grip it. After about ten seconds of this, a thoroughly embarrassed Jak returned to his washing, as his best-friend struggled to stop laughing.

"_Breathe _Daxter." He muttered embarrassedly.

Daxter hyperventilated before he managed to squeeze out. "Yeah! I'll _breathe_ once I can get rid of the picture in my head! Hah! You should have seen it!" In typical Daxter fashion he started to mimic Jak's mad-cap dance for the soap, before eventually falling on his rear. Silence reigned for all of two seconds. Then the laughing began. A friendly bubbling laughter that held the two in it's grip for a long time. When it finally stopped, they settled into a comfortable silence, as Jak wrapped himself in the towel, and gestured to the Ottsel to follow him. After getting dried and dressed, they made their way into the kitchen to pick up the tray of food. (Which Daxter kept making failed attempts to steal from his position on Jak's shoulder.)

When they finally reached the 'sanctuary' of their room, Jak tossed his remaining equipment onto a rickety table and removed his boot's. While Daxter started munching on the various pieces of fruit Jak had picked out for him. Daxter bounced about a foot in the air, as Jak jumped onto the small bed.

"Hey! Don't _do _that!" He shouted, gripping the cover with his claws. Jak got a glint in his eye, before replying with a suave tone. "What?…Oh…you mean..This?" He jumped again, causing Daxter to take an impromptu flight into his friend's hair, which he gripped before Jak could do anything else. He remained there for a while, munching contentedly at the apple in his hands, while Jak nibbled slowly at the things he'd brought himself.

After picking away at the last shreds of his apple, Daxter tossed the core into the pile of other remains he'd made on the tray, before settling in to his friends hair with a soft contented sigh. Jak finished up too, moving the tray onto the rickety table mentioned previously. Daxter didn't budge, even when Jak stripped down to boxers and turned the light out. After settling into the bed, he finally laughed and spoke out softly in the dark.

"If you're so Comfy up there, why don't you build a nest?" He spoke amusedly. Daxter responded in typical fashion. He lifted himself, and started constructing to makeshift hut around himself out of long strands of hair. He giggled softly at his handiwork as Jak rolled his eyes and slapped his face.

"I didn't mean literally, and you know it!" Daxter just giggled again, before letting out another contented sigh. He felt an uneasy tension in the air, despite their agreement earlier. Apparently the episode had spooked his pal. Absently, he started playing with Jak's scalp. Rubbing away at it just for something to do. The soft moans of appreciation from below just encouraged him. Absently rubbing his tail across the length of Jak's absurdly long Elven ears. A soft shudder shook him slightly.

"_Ahh…so you like that eh?"_ A sly grin slowly spread across Daxter's furry mug.

Jak's mind was blank. Concentrating on nothing but the soothing fingers on his scalp and threading through his hair. How had he gone without this? He knew it was a bit 'touchy feely' for friends, but rationalised it by thinking that it and occurred from them being on their own for so long. Either way, he wasn't complaining. A smiled at the sensation of rumbling from above as Daxter snickered. Closing his eyes, he could both feel and hear the tiny heartbeat. Strong against his skin.

He felt the hands move to his ears. And couldn't contain the soft moan that escaped his mouth. Eyes fluttering closed. Ears are an Elf's most sensitive parts. Almost as sensitive as sexual organs. Tension relaxed, muscles gave up there battle, and he drooped into the bed. He groaned again, Daxter's fingers working magic on him. He tilted them up into the hands. And stiffened.

A rough, feline tongue rasped across the skin eliciting another strangled moan from his lips. He felt sharp little teeth delicately nibble on the tip. He bit his lip. Colour flooding his face. Finger threading through his hair again.

"'Sss'…um….Dax..mm." Daxter made a soft grunt of acknowledgement. "Mn?" Jak couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't make the situation _much_ more awkward, and just twitched and groaned happily. Eyes flickering shut again. He didn't know what to make of it, so he just accepted it. Finger moving between ears and scalp. Occasionally straying to his temples. Slowly and surely rubbing him into submission. And he just let him.

Jak had no idea when he drifted. But he was awakened, when Daxter climbed down onto his chest, before curling up, face towards him.

"Better?" Was the soft question. An orange eyebrow cocked slightly.

Jak's face coloured lightly before he smiled. "Yea…thanks pal."

He reached up absently to stroke Daxter's head, scratching behind the ears. Long soft paths up and down the furry back. The deep rumbling this brought telling him better than words how well he was doing.

"Mrr…Jaaak…you..know..I hate..ooh…'right there'...the…purring..'Sss' ooohhe..Mmm." The constant stream of appreciative noises and pointless words made Jak feel much better than any well thought out speech ever could. Because it was His Best friend in the whole world saying them. Daxter.

* * *

Later in the night the Ottsel was woken by jostling. He slipped down Jak's side, hitting the bed and drowsily wiping his eyes to wake up. Jak was sweating, lips silently mouthing words, hand's gripping the bed. His eyes rolled around rapidly inside their protective sheath's and small groans of fear escaped his mouth from time to time.

Fully awake now, Daxter stood, laying a hand on Jak to steady himself when Jak started speaking softly.

"No…please no…not again…please don't…don't…touch me…don't touch me!" It went on in that way for a while, growing louder by the second. Daxter shook his friend, murmuring words of encouragement. Soothing his friend from a nightmare. At his touch and voice, Jak slowly started to relax, calming down again. He rolled to the side, wrapping his arm's around the Ottsel and curling up into a ball around him. Leaving Daxter cocooned by his body, shivering from time to time as the fear subsided.

It was in this warm living bundle that Daxter fell asleep.

* * *

He woke up to the strange sensation of weight on his chest. A weight which was oddly warm, and rumbling. Rumbling? He opened his eyes a smidgeon, and saw Daxter curled on his chest. Arm's crossed to make a pillow, quite near his face. He smiled gently. Taking a moment to gaze at his face, which for once, wasn't laughing at bad jokes, or scowling at something. It was limp, relaxed and calm. A very unusual occurrence for Daxter.

Slowly, the small mouth opened wide in a yawn, revealing small sharp, gleaming white teeth." G' back ta sleep Jak. It's like…the ass-crack a' dawn." Was the sleepy mumble through half-lidded eyes. Looking at the bedside alarm-clock, Jak saw that this analogy was indeed accurate. As the machine read "06:02". He always woke early. He settled back and tried to go back to sleep, just absorbing the afterglow of the rest. Daxter uncurled and stretched against his chest. Making him chuckle, as the sensation of fur dragging across and soft claw strokes created a tingling tickly sensation.

"Mrr…cut it out." The Ottsel murmured, sprawling out long-ways on his chest. Jak raised an eyebrow but just continued trying to sleep. It was about then that he noticed something unusual digging into his stomach lightly. He frowned a bit, as Daxter dropped off again. The Ottsel's feet were further down, his arms were on his chest in a pillow for the former-Elf.

It hit him what the '_thing'_ was like the proverbial ton of bricks. His eyes shot open, even as he felt the hardness start to fall limp again. He finally managed to relax when there were no subsequent 'encounters'. He swallowed and tried to put it behind him. Mornin wood probably, he thought to himself. Though the situation disturbed him slightly. After all. How often is it you wake up with your best-friend on top of you, and his cock sticking into your naval?

'Quite big for an animal his size by the feel of it…Gah!' The thought popped into his head, unbidden. He tried to eliminate the images it conjured up. Precursor's help any psychologist who ever tried to help him! Daxter choosing that particular moment to shift his arm up, so that it lay across his chest, fingers at his neck did nothing to help subside the blush on his face. Which he brutally shoved away and tried to fall asleep again.

* * *

The first thing Daxter saw was a close up of Jak's face. A small smirk running up it. Daxter was curled up on his chest, arms wrapped around Jak's neck.

"Umm…Dax? Can I have my neck back?" The smirk widened as Daxter jumped back. A blush hidden under orange fur. An arm scratching at his head as he looked sheepish. Trying to forget the images of his own blood from his head. That had been a bad night. He still had the scar. He rubbed at it absently.

Jak sat up, yawned and kept speaking in that amused tone.

"Ya know, when I signed in for Ottsel-sitting I didn't think the Job entailed acting as a pillow for an over-affectionate fur-ball." He tossed a pillow at him playfully. Daxter growled playfully, and pulled off a bit of gymnastic elegance, running up the thrown pillow and leaping at the Dark-Elf. Jak's eyes widened as he laughed and tried to fend back the furry paws snatching at his nose and ruffling his hair.

He pulled the Ottsel into a rough firm hug. Effectively pinning him.

"Hah! Got you now. Let's see ya get outta this one Orange-lightning!" Jak chuckled as Daxter ineffectually tried to free himself.

Heh…you forgot about something Jak. Daxter smirked to himself. Jak raised an eyebrow at his friends actions, before someone tapped his shoulder. He turned…and got a face full of tail-beating.

After their carry-on, Jak got dressed and they made their way up to the main level, after having a bite to eat in the kitchen. They made their way up- to the main floor, and stopped on the threshold of Torn's domain.

The metal door opened automatically with a pneumatic hiss, revealing the damp interior. A harsh Phosphorescent strip-lighting eliminating the dark crevices formed by mounds of paperwork. An empty pitcher of coffee stood perched precariously on the edge of one such pile. Seated at the large circular table, and surrounded by the mountains of literature was Torn. Scribbling fastidiously away at the last dozen or so papers. His handwriting, while scrawled quickly. Was tiny, and neat. The result of many such nights.

Large bags hung from the commanders face, made worse by the thin gauntness of the visage. He bent over his work, eyes darting over the various bit's of paper arrayed in front of him. Jak was genuinely impressed. The level of commitment and self-sacrifice the man showed was a rare enough thing anywhere, never mind in a squalid place like Haven.

The man was obviously dedicated. Although Daxter's word choice was more along the lines of, Obsessed.

He'd taken less than a step into the room when the over-worked commander chose to speak.

"There's a Zoomer outside with a payload of Raw Eco Ore. It need's to be taken to the harbour section to a guy called Krew. He's connected to the city, and owns a place called the Hip Hog Saloon. Try not ta piss him off. We need his co-operation for continued supply's. Manage this and I might have somethin for ya."

Jak was again surprised by the Raspy quality of the man's voice, and wondered perhaps if it came from some old battle-wound. Or just lack of sleep.

The fact that he didn't bother to turn around annoyed Jak. But instead of saying anything, he snapped a mocking salute and marched out. Ignoring Daxter's loud-mouth comments and thinly veiled threats, Jak went outside.

The sun was a little way into the sky, it's dazzling brilliance blurred by the deluge of smog which hovered over Haven like a giant storm-cloud. Waiting for the opportune moment to unleash a hell-storm of rain and wind on those unsuspecting below it. The air carried the usual metallic chill associated with Haven. The smog was thinner in the morning, as few factory's were yet operational. The Duracrete was cracked and crumbling in the slum sector, as the Baron had chosen to neglect it in favour of military projects.

Pit's and craters from underground resistance fights were a common sight, coupled with broken pipes, damaged buildings and other poorly kept features. A depressing sight made worse by the miserable conditions and weather the elves were forced to endure.

As Jak exited the Underground compound, and the heavy mechanical doorway closed, he stood on the threshold of this neglect and felt the old anger surge. The broken buildings, cracked floor and multitude of pits. Combined with the squalid living conditions and poverty gave birth to an emotion he hadn't felt in a while. Pity. This was made worse, by the state of the various early risers. People dressed in shoddily stitched clothes, huddling in their meagre clothing against the cold. Faces hungry and gaunt.

The feeling of a broken populace was tinting the air a bitter colour. War lingered at every corner. A reminder of the hell outside the hell within. Jak stood for a moment, as his resolve hardened further. He felt a hand lean on his head, and glanced up at Daxter. The Ottsel's face was grim.

"Welcome to life as a Haven-ite. It doesn't get much better. C'mon buddy, let's get to Krew before Old Metal-Breath has a coronary."

A nod and Jak turned to the Zoomer.

After making sure that the package was indeed secure, he started the engine. Taking a moment to appreciate the deep reverberating _thrum_ of the engine, as it turned processed eco into energy.

He glimpsed back to make sure Daxter was settled securely on his shoulder. With a nod from his furry co-pilot, he set off. Probably at a speed far faster than he should have, but who cared? He rose to the second height level, and slammed down on the accelerator. Marvelling at the speed. He took off over the ramshackle buildings and ruined Duracrete and headed off in the direction of the Harbour district.

Taking turns on a hairpin. Narrowly avoiding collisions at every corner. He barely registered Daxter screaming blue murder in his ears as adrenaline surged through his body, heightening his already super-Elven reflexes.

Daxter didn't know _what_ the hell was going on. The wind was whipping him about; the noise had blotted out his senses. The speed made him see things seconds after they had happened. He was very disoriented and annoyed. But he was far to scared to act on it. The fear pissed him off more than the journey.

Jak paid him no heed, continuing on his mad-cap race through the undergrowth of Haven. He narrowly avoided several people. It was then that a lone KG caught sight of him flying past at breakneck speed. A hurried report and a request for backup later, saw Jak being chased through the industrial sector by about a dozen KG speeders. He grinned as he saw people silently cheering him on. Pulled off un-necessary manoeuvres for the sake of the crowd.

A high pitched hum followed them in a wave, as the slipstream caused bits of abandoned lunch and papers to fly into the air. Light gleamed off of the metal panelling common to the Industrial sector, and commuters were almost knocked to the kerbside by his erratic driving.

Blaster fire caused him to take evasive action. And he nearly crashed when a shot fired beside his ear nearly deafened him. Daxter was returning fire at the KG. Though that wouldn't hold them for long. Three of the Bikes were directly behind him. Another three were trying to catch up on either side. Two were coming in from above, and the last was hitting the ground at 200 Kph courtesy of Daxter's shooting.

He heard one of them coming up behind. And grinning, grabbed Daxter off his shoulder and plonked him in the seat, twisted the handles down to meet him, and jammed the accelerator. Ignoring the panicked shouting, he jumped up to his hunkers, before launching himself into a back flip. The Kg was underneath him. And had just looked up, when two bullets entered his skull. Jak landed on the speeder, and knocked the body off. Slammed off the breaks and waited for the other bikes to pass him.

He then accelerated, firing the bikes lasers and his own pistol at once. A hit on the engine panel, a high-pitched scream, a wavering flight path. A collision with friends. An explosion engulfed four. Two more succumbed to blaster fire. Shrapnel threatened the passer-by's. Six KG down, and he was gaining on the remaining five.

He jammed the accelerator in, and jumped onto the seat again, waited till he was beside one speeder, and hurled his own at the KG sideways, leaping and firing at the fuel tank as he did so. The bike slammed into the other KG guard as the fuel tank detonated. Engulfing the poor man in an inferno of blazing eco and shrapnel. He hit the street dead as Jak landed behind the closest of the four remaining KG. The man put up a good struggle, battering Jak, and barrel-rolling in an attempt to loosen the renegade.

Jak's solution was to introduce Mr Combat Knife to Mr.KG-Neck With the KG heading on a one-way collision course with the Duracrete; Jak concentrated on firing at the other three. One went down easily enough, a hole burned clean through one of the stabilising mounts on the KG speeder. Resulting in a wild spiral into one of the factory walls. Another paid a dear price for forgetting his helmet, and a passer-by paid a dear price for staying to watch instead of running. Being splattered by Gray matter. The last one however, would not budge. And, was getting uncomfortably close to Daxter.

At this time they were entering the harbour district. As the left the threshold of the new section, light glimmered off of the sludge-infested waters. Smog hung low in the air, and the various metal towers sticking out of the water were made harder to see by the thick fog which had settled in the area. Pushing the bike to it's limit, Jak managed to catch up with the KG. Rather than continue shooting, and risk drawing attention form any KG stationed here, Jak reached forward. And with a brutal twist, snapped the KG's neck like a twig.

A few seconds driving, and a leap later. Saw a twitching Daxter in his lap, and the bike slowing to a hover somewhere above the water. Daxter was silent, completely silent. As Jak opened a GPS system built into the speeder, and located the bar in question. A two minute drive over the large man-made lake saw them come in for a relatively smooth landing next to the Bar.

At around this time Daxter regained a small portion of calm, and as Jak was reaching for the package of Eco Ore, Daxter swatted his hand, and turned his head towards him, before saying in a sugar sweet voice; which frankly unsettled Jak.

"Oh Jak." A little smile was on the Ottsel's face as he leaned forward into Jak's personal space.

"Uh…yea Dax…?" Jak wore a confused and slightly apprehensive look. Justified when Daxter literally exploded on his face.

"Don't ever frigging do that again! Ya hear me! You nearly gave me a friggin heart attack!" And he went on in that vein for a good two minutes. Jak just stood their with a placid look plastered to his noggin, until Daxter out-spoke himself and fell silent.

"Better?" he asked mildly.

"…Yea…I suppose. Don' mean I forgiv' ya' thou'." Was the grumbled reply.

Jak just chuckled, scratching Dax' ears a bit, before picking up their delicate package, and making his way to the bar.

The door was a strange affair. Metal, with wooden panelling and a circular lens. It split in half, both sides sliding into the wall on approach. On the threshold of the place, Jak was immediately assaulted by a wave of stale smoke and the smell of old beer. Wrinkling his nose he stepped inside. While Daxter was a little squinting, Jak's vision cut swath's through the dense atmosphere. Dim lamp's illuminated the place barely. Giving birth to the sight of cubicles lining the walls. What looked like a wrestling ring in the middle, and a bar at the far end.

It felt stiff. Not at all like a place you came to enjoy yourself. More like a place to mope. Or work yourself up to throw yourself into the lake outside. Wooden flooring and panelling showed the place to be prosperous though, and the inhabitants were few. Those there were, were the usual grubby sort from the Slum's. And they generally took no interest in him bar to see what the commotion was. A few odd looks at the Ottsel were given. But no-one commented.

Stepping further into the place, Jak began to make out details. The quality of the lamps, the empty glasses at cubicles. Mark's of chairs on the floor. The lack of a security camera. As he neared the Bar itself, he noted the large black guy seated their, nursing a small drink. What drew the attention though, was not the colour of the skin.

It was the sheer _size_ of the man. Around 7'4" by Jak's estimate. Making him tower above most people. He was dressed in some kind of armour, made of the carapace of animals by the looks of things. He wore a black leather belt as well. Studded with yellow gem's, similar to Daxter's. When they reached the Bart, Jak placed the package carefully on the wooden surface. The man turned his head to face them, letting them get a glimpse of the red mechanical replacement he sported.

"What'cha got there then cherries?" His voice was slow and lazy. Mellow and calming.

_Cherries?_ Frowning at the nickname Jak answered gruffly.

"A package for a guy named Krew. Wouldn't happen ta be you would it?"

A deep low chuckle emanated from deep in the man's chest. "No, I ain't Krew." A muttered '_And thank the Precursors for that!' _ Was heard. "Although, I daresay you'll recognise im' when ya see im'." He nodded behind them. Jak turned. To be met with a repulsive sight.

"What's this _Ey? _" Before them was a large bowl-shaped hoverlift. In it, was the most repulsive sight Jak had seen to date. A giant of a man, almost perfectly spherical in bulk. Waves and folds of fat drooping from him like concertinas. His bowel juddered in protest that _anything_ could have so little self-respect to _allow_ themselves to get _this bad._ Daxter wisely clenched his jaw, to prevent form saying something he might regret.

"We're looking for a guy called Krew…I'm guessing that's you. Right?"

"Yes, that would be me. And perchance would you be the messenger the Underground sent me. Ey?"

Jak nodded, picking up the package and handing it over to the result of Modern-obesity rolled up into a ball and made incarnate.

A greedy glint entered the fat crime-lord's eyes as he snatched the package from out of Jak's hands.

"Good thing this ere package is in prime condition. A package of good raw-Eco ore is worth maybe…10 of your lives Ey?"

A dark chuckle wobbled the fat Mafia-Leaders Cheeks. And he instantly took a position of severe dislike. Chuckles like that got him on edge. The hover-lift whined as the blimp moved a small control yoke to the left. Moving him into a side room. He talked to the man who was presumably in his employ.

"Give them something for their troubles Sig."

The man finished off his drink then reached behind the bar,. And drew out a small gun. He threw it to Jak, who caught it perfectly thanks to his superior senses. Jak and Daxter peered at the weapon curiously. It was definitely strange. Lots of levers and switches and slots all over the place. The man also drew out a small plastic card from his Armour and tossed that too.

"That's what's called a morph gun. Started bein' made abou 3 months ago. Small lightweight weapon. Reasonable firepower. But the kicker', is that it's fully mod-able."

The man grinned, teeth in stark contrast to his dark skin.

"You put the chips in the slots, and flick a few levers," He mimed the actions and indicated the right slot.", And Hey-Presto! Different gun. Try it."

Jak slotted the thin card into the indicated slot. A small LED lit next to the slot, and a button emerged from a hidden groove. He pushed it, then watched in amazement, as with a whirring and clacking, the metal panels and circuitry re-arranged themselves to form a small Pistol.

"That's a Magnum. Don't let the size fool ya'." The big man called Sig warned. "That pistol can put a hole through a KG's armour at ten paces. The lever on the side flicks between modes. Semi-Auto, Full Auto and Single shot. If ya' hold in the trigger on Single. Ya' fire a charge shot. Blow the torso straight offa a Metal Head. Drains the battery's though. Takes Blue-Eco Ammo. Take er' for a spin down the Test-course, look for the sign, east end of the Harbour, can miss it."

He strode forward, stretching out a massive palm. He grinned. "Name's' Sig. Now what can a be callin'you Cherries?"

Jak shook hands with the man, surprising him by matching if not surpassing his strength of grip.

"Jak."

"And Daxter!" Shot out his furry Orange friend, stepping onto Jak's arm.


	8. Chapter 8: A Big Ass Bang

**A fight for Consciousness and a Big Ass Bang.**

**Chapter 8**

The room was dimly lit, despite the large glass panes which comprised most of the ceiling and far wall. An omnipresent metallic odour, masked the musty smell seeping in from outside. A solid Metatron floor marred by scratch marks and scuffs which indicated pacing, something the occupant was prone to. The Metatron walls were almost completely covered with bits of paper containing everything from battle reports to propaganda ideas.

Large view screens were spaced on the walls around a central raised circular portion. On this dais, was a long, sweeping, curved obsidian desk, and a tall metal throne. A wire coiled out of the headrest, to end in the skull of the occupant. Bulky gauntleted fists gripped the arms of the chair as he listened in anger to the reports streaming into his brain.

To anyone entering the room, they would immediately be assaulted by the sense of war, and intimidation on being faced by the sole occupant. Stain glass windows depicted scenes of battle, unlike real life however, most of them depicted victory over the Metal heads. They were losing.

A fact the Baron was only too aware of.

His sole remaining eye cut an imaginary swathe through all it contacted, as it involuntarily twitched from side to side as though he were reading midair. The technology wasn't perfect.

A deep growl escaped Praxis's throat, and an armoured fist slammed into the metal of his throne, denting it. He stood, wrenching the data-cord free, walking towards the balcony on the far side of his war-room. From the balcony he gazed down at his city. Single eye and sophisticated scanners going over everything critically. Death, desolation, and crime. He snorted. Pathetic.

Then for no apparent-reason, the Baron clutched his head in agony, thunking to his knees, ignoring the pain in his legs in favour of the one in his head. Beneath a metallic brow, a battle was being waged. Two Identities fought for dominance. The artificial one eventually won. Driving the original down under a sea of hypnotic waves. Rising, the metallic Overlord spat at his city and retreated to the endless streams of bad news.

Meanwhile deep under the layers of steel, Duracrete and Metatron of the Fortress-palace, screams were plentiful, as a certain redhead relieved his tension and anger on unlucky experiments. In the background, curious eerie classical music played as the maniacal sadistic man played with elves like they were nothing.

Erol's pursuits were interrupted, when a high-pitch beeping heralded the intercom. With a suffered sigh he dropped his implements, eliciting a sigh of relief from the Elf on the table. With a light grace he strode to the view screen and keyed it. On the screen the Baron's face appeared, it looked annoyed. Erol gave a lazy salute, a slow smile graced his features, and he drawled.

"Can I help you…sir?" The smile disappeared though when he heard the Baron's tone.

"Stop what you are doing, replace that prisoner in her cell, and, _Get. Up. Here. __**Now."**_With that the intercom ceased, and the screen faded to show the Krimson Guard Emblem. A gulp escaped Erol before he could prevent it; he knew what the Baron's moods could be like.

Sighing he made his way to the Female Elf, and with one last lecherous look, signalled a guard from the door take her back to her cell. He cricked his neck, straightened his uniform, and made his way to the main elevator. After enduring the doldrum of the elevator music for 18 floors, he got off and headed through a myriad of corridors and armouries to the small 4-man elevator which led to the Baron's Private quarters.

He paused at the door, and bit his lip. His stomach tightened, and he swallowed again. Bracing himself he stepped inside, and keyed the controls, submitting his Fingerprint, DNA and Eye-scan before triggering the voice activator.

"Strongest Hand Uppermost."

The doors slid shut with a pneumatic hiss, and the elevator accelerated upwards briskly, no music, only the electronic hum of magnetic accelerators. With a whine, the elevator slid to a halt, a low Ding hum indicated the reached floor. Doors slid open and out stepped Erol.

The baron was once more seated at his throne, his face perfectly still, betraying nothing. A poker face, with a razor edge. Erol straightened, and loped forward, halting at the edge of the table. He snapped off a salute and remained standing.

"Yes Si..." The Baron cut him off in mid sentence, moving his hands from their gauntleted position and gesturing grandly at the view screens.

"Are you aware of our current position Commander? Go on, have a look. Get a bird's-eye look at exactly how screwed we are." The voice was soft, yet gravely. Belaying the anger contained within.

Erol obediently looked at the screens, images of dead elves, and ruined outposts and positions. Pillaged supply wagons and damaged equipment. One screen showed a small fort. The Metatron walls were heavily scarred, and the innumerable bodies of elves lay broken at the bottom of its walls. The small shield-wall generator pillars were heavily damaged, and the walls housed a skeleton force.

He was jerked from his examination by the bang of a fist on the already dented throne. "That is the only fucking place we won! And is it a win! 80 Percent casualties? Dozens of bodies, hundreds in lost equipment! And what are you doing? Are you training our skeleton staff so that we have more veterans amongst our watered down army! **No you are not!"**

The titan stood from his throne, leaning over the table so that he was face to face with his second. "No Erol…" The Baron seemed to regain some semblance of control; the half-metal face which had moments ago been twisted in rage was once more placid. Only the single eye and glowing red sensor apparatus gave any indication of his mood. Once more a hand swung out to convey a point.

"..No.**Instead**, you spend your time in that fucking _dungeon_ of yours, engaged in _perverted__**sadism**_against_almost_innocent scum. Well…It ends **Now.**"

Erol's face flushed in anger, he opened his mouth to deliver an acidic comment, but was stopped by the introduction of several tons of flesh, metal replacement and armour slamming into him at a speed he had trouble following. Heavy thumps, told his dazed consciousness that he was walking over. 'Thump, Clunk, Thump, and Clunk' For a walking tank he had some speed when he wished it. Next thing Erol knew, he was kicked in the gut, and made high-speed contact with the wall. Groaning the thin Commander curled into a ball. An icy cold, vice-like grip slid over his throat, lifting him high, before slamming him against the wall. He scrabbled ineffectively at the grip, leg's twitching slightly. When he opened his eyes, it was to the twisted visage of his boss.

"When you leave this room Erol, you are going to terminate any plans you had with your 'projects' tonight, and you are going to start up a new recruitment program. You are going to devise a new training regime and you are going to do it quickly. You are going to train a crack team of soldiers. I want 400. In three months...If they aren't up to scratch..."

A Curious skeletal grin showed on metal features. Curious, in that it contained not a trace of humour.

"I will devise something _**Most uncomfortable.**_"

With that the Baron let his second fall to the floor. He strode away, before pausing. Without bothering to turn, he addressed the man.

"Oh. And Erol? … Find Jak. And _**Do**_** not make me need to do this again. Or I'll**_** give you to him.**_" With that, Praxis clasped his hands behind his back, and strode into the elevator, and out of sight. Allowing Erol to let a few tears of agony escape.

* * *

"Okay. Remind me why we're doing this again?" The Ottsel said from his perch.

Eyes rolled. "Because Torn Said he need's that Warhead disabled. And it'll be fun." A dark chuckle escaped from between lips quirked in a smirk. Jak clacked the loader on his Blaster Upgrade. The Shotgun upgrade was perfect for the twisting corridors they now traversed on their way to the Armoury.

The Barrel of the short stout weapon swayed slowly left and right, as Jak Panned the view in front of them. The transition Jak uneasy. The maintenance corridors were too long and narrow for his liking; it was like walking into a sniper range and shouting "Look at Me! Shoot!", with the added bonus of having more time to absorb less powerful bullets.

The silence was eerie. In these corridors nothing save the hum of electricity accompanied the soft clanks of his footsteps. Other than that, his ears picked up Daxter's breath beside his head, and the faint heartbeat of his Ottsel pal. His eyes pierced the darkness ahead of them with more clarity than any Elfish person before him.

The corridor itself was fairly standard. Metallic walls and ceiling. A vast plethora of pipes and conduits running below

the catwalk and along the walls. A dim red light spaced every 50 meters. These cramped walkways twisted their way

Through most of the complex, making it easy to get from one place to another...too easy. The lack of resistance had

The Dark-Elf on edge. His heartbeat was faster, his breaths long and deep. Cautiously scanning ahead, he was

Tense, sprung, ready for a fight.

"Sheesh...is this dark and depressing or what!" Came the inevitable comment.

"I mean, sure! The guys a dark, depressing and menacing _Baron_, But get a grip! What's with the decor? The Fung

Shui is in dire need of a pep-up!" Daxter jumped to the metal floor, startling Jak from his reverie.

The Ottsel was rewarded by a small snort, but it was a start. Jak's sense of humour was much more contained now. The décor was rather gloomy though, the only change came ten minutes later, when they came across a Dead-end, complete with a hatch in the floor. With a brief struggle, Jak pried it up slowly, and noiselessly. He lowered Daxter down about an inch, withdrawing at the hiss.

Daxter leaned in close to whisper in his ear, sending a thrill up Jak's spine as fur brushed inside his ear and cheek.

"Guard, single. He's at the end of the corridor, looks like there's a break room beyond it. The floors metal, you'll make too much noise. I think the Armouries a little up ahead, this is as close as we get. I...I think I can get close without too much noise if you lower me down." Jak was momentarily surprised and against the idea until he saw the look in his friends eyes. With a silent nod, he allowed Daxter to wrap his strong tail round his hand, and softly lowered him to the walkway below.

Once there, the Ottsel withdrew his tail, and pulled in his claws to the best of his ability, before setting off quickly on the pads of his feet, but more important, silently. With a quick flick, he caught one of his small daggers, and leapt up onto the Guards back. Using the momentum of his jump combined with his strength, the butt of the blade drove into the Guards temple, incapacitating him. This was compounded by four inches of Titanium-A being driven into his windpipe, through the jugular. He died within two seconds, not feeling a thing.

Daxter managed to slow the man's fall enough to bring him to the floor softly enough not to alert the nearby guardhouse. Jak gave the Ottsel an approving glance, before divesting the body of grenades. He picked up his furry passenger then made his way to the guardhouse, judging by the noises; most of them were drunk, what luck!

Hauling open the door he hurled them into all corners of the room, having enough time to see the shock on all 12 mugs before he slammed the door shut and slagged the locking mechanism. Frantic pummelling sounded from within, along with panicked, drunken screams. Then four muffled **Thuds!**. Followed by twelve distinct thumps, and multiple smaller ones. Each picked out in detail by the enhance hearing of both friends. One through Eco, one through Augmentation.

Keeping an ear-out for an alarm, Jak and Daxter wound their way through the last twelve meters of uninteresting corridor, before arriving at a heavily re-enforced door.

* * *

Haven Eco Processing Facility Alpha Delta Orion...

System Computer Network...

Login: Vincent Brown...

Password: (Paranoia Begets Survival)

Log-In Successful...

Initiating Start-Up Procedure...

Retrieving Personal Data...

Start-Up complete

Vincent, or Vin as most people referred to him as, sat mournfully in front of the computer monitor. Precursorian symbols flowed past at a geometric rate. Telling him everything he needed to know about the state the system was in. A heavy sigh escaped his lips, a quivering hand reaching into his shirt-pocket for the Caffeine supplements which would help him through the day.

The translation suites always made errors. So it was left to Vin to scour pages of feedback and reports in Precursorian and find out what had went wrong and how to fix it. Being one of only 5 men in the city with the Precursorian degree required made put him in almost constant demand. It had made him jumpy, tired and slightly insane. It had also spurred him in his project.

Spawned from overwork, the idea was to create an A.I, capable of running the Eco-grid. Unfortunately the rules governing decisions were tough to devise with any accuracy. How could a machine be programmed to deal with Life or Death situations? So it had transcended into making a Mind-Map. That is, creating an artificial copy of a person's mind contained in a Neural Network suspended in a Blue-Eco crystal.

The idea had met scepticism, but he'd been given a research grant, and was currently working on the process; And being distracted from his work. He jumped a foot in the air as an alarm started blaring in the room, and his consoles started flashing dangerous colours. Trouble at the palace?

* * *

Calm melodic sounds wafted across the room from an in-built stereo system. Erol sat in his favourite chair, a cup of strong sweet tea in one hand, and nursing his bruised face with the other. Damn the Baron! Either the man didn't know his own strength; or much more likely, was angry.

Leaning back into the soft cushion, Erol thought about his current position. He was treading water, and needed to find some land. Taking a palm-top from an inside pocket, he began planning an intensive training regime.

An hour passed, and he shivered in disgust. Cold tea really was horrible. He was going for the kettle, when an alarm started blaring. He wondered what could detonate in the armoury? Then it hit him. His eyes widened and he bolted to the door whilst grabbing his gun.

The**Beowulf !**

* * *

**­­­­­**

Jak entered the cavernous space cautiously, gun aimed in front of him, sweeping the area in slow controlled sweeps. From his position on his friend shoulder, Daxter had a good view of the row's upon row's of weapons. Grenades, rifles, Hellcat Cruisers, tanks , Missiles. Stationary cannons not yet connected, mounted guns. A city's-worth of fire-power under a single roof. Praxis's whip against the people of Haven.

The two friends looked at each other simultaneously. Each shared the same Maniacal Grin.

"This is Orange Lightning to Dark Central. Two words. Jack-Pot."

"This is Dark Central to Orange lightning, stock up."

Giggling like the insane, the demolition duo started loading all sort's of equipment into a pair of Hellcat Cruisers. That done they opened it's guidance system and loaded in co-ordinates to the underground, sending them a message that two Hellcat's would be landing in the slums full of weapons which could be salvaged. Once they'd loaded up they sent off the Hellcat's from the Hanger door in the side of the building, and set off looking for the main reason they came here.

Walking uneasily past a row of nasty looking tanks, the duo made their way deeper among the row's of weaponry. Jak paused occasionally to pick up things. Like a bag of C4, a small case with two Dark Flower Land Mines as well as a bandolier of shock Grenades.

Eventually they reached a section of the Armoury which was more barren than the rest. On top of a large complicated podium, covered in wires and gauges, pumps and socket, lights and readouts, was a large missile about the size of a Hellcat. A control system faced them, Jak stepped up to it, staring in confoundment at the computer system.

"Does this make more sense to you?" Jak said with a confused look.

"Jaky boy, concerning complicated gizmo's there's a rule. When in doubt, hit." Making good on his words, Daxter slammed a furry fist onto the console.

"Clearance code rejected, please try again." With a sigh Jak stepped towards the large construct, and began ripping out wires and conduits and tubes. Clear blue fluid gushed from several, while sparks showered the pair. A deep low hum began to emanate from the machine, and the temperature endured a significant rise.

The pair jumped when a claxon began sounding from all around, repeated on every floor.  
**  
"Warning, Beowulf Missile suffering Critical condition. Cooling system disabled. Detonation in T-Minus ten minutes."**

Looking at each other with panicked eyes, Jak turned to flee as Daxter alighted on his shoulder.

"**Warning, Unauthorised persons detected within Armoury. All available personnel to Armoury. Conflict. All personnel evacuate. Detonation in T-Minus 9:42 minutes. Automated defence system online. "**

As the pair ran through twisting corridors of KG weaponry, computers activated, reactors warmed and Auto-Turrets twitched in their cradles. Two of the nasty looking tanks from earlier shuddered to life and sped on tracks into the main corridor. Turrets swivelled to face the duo and started blasting them with concentrated yellow Eco.

Jak drew his weapon and jumped straight up in the same movement.

The turret wasn't fooled. It hummed, and moved to track them, all the while spewing Eco like it was the latest craze. Chunks of Duracrete and Metatron showered in all directions as the shots hit the ceiling. One particularly close blast hurtled Jak and Daxter into the floor. The former helping the latter to his feet. As Jak got to his feet he was faced by row's of jagged metallic spikes facing him.

With a roar of electronics, the multi-ton vehicle charged at them. A quick swap of chips and levers changed the bulky shotgun to its smaller model. With the gun charging, Jak easily leapt the oncoming vehicle, in time to meet another wave of eco from the other tank, all the while aware of the turret turning to follow him from behind.

With a growl, and a contortion which put several so called 'masters' to shame, He made it through the wave somewhat unscathed, with Daxter hanging on for dear life. Things were simply travelling too fast for the poor furball. With an adrenalin filled grin, Jak leapt onto the tank and gripped the turret. With a roar of effort, the gun was forcibly removed, housing and all. Turning he launched it at the oncoming tank. Before he vacated his new perch, Jak left a surprise behind in the form of a shock grenade.

Leaping off the tank he didn't look back as a small electrical storm went off inside the machine, frying it's components and leaving it out for the count. Running full pelt at the oncoming Tank number two (Affectionately nicknamed Dewey) he leapt and rolled and ducked through swaths of incoming Eco, obtaining a few burns and scratched, he levelled the fully charged Magnum. The gun bucked, an orb of concentrated blue Eco buckling the air in front of it. It melted a hole through the armour of the tank, causing it to swerve as the after-shock fried it's systems.

As Jak landed with a smug grin the machine detonated, a cloud of smoke setting off the sprinklers.

"Jak.." Started Daxter before he was interrupted by the sound of clapping. Forcibly turned by the force of his friends shoulders, Daxter was soon faced with a figure walking through the smoke and water of the tank. He was definitely KG and seemed familiar. Red hair, a strange bug-like face mask and a KG Chest Plate. A set of leather racing slacks complemented the set. Metal-rimmed boots made soft clanks on the grilled floor.

Tattoo's appeared from the hairline, creating shades over the man's eyes. Focussed eyes, and a sly smirk set his teeth on edge. The KG walked with a fluidity few others possessed, and the relaxed posture screamed at him. What cinched the man as an enemy in Daxter's eyes though, is the way Jak tensed. Suddenly becoming brick under his paws.

Soft laughter echoed in the room as that voice announced the five-minute warning.

"_I see you found a pet Jak? I'll enjoy killing it."_

Sharp teeth bared in a grin.

"_Come back eh? Good thing, we've been interested in continuing our...'research'."_ The man paused, a hand rising to rub his chin.

"_Actually, that rodent complements my hair, perhaps I could make a scarf? "_ The conversational tone was not suited to the situation.

"If you think yur gonna skin me you've got another thing comin to ya pal! Ain't that right Jak ! Jak?" Daxter looked down in confusion, in time to see the muscle spasm on Jak's face. Several things suddenly occurred. First, the tenseness had increased, secondly, Jak was shaking, and thirdly, Jak was beginning to spark. Long purple trails crackled lazily across his body. Daxter's eyes widened as it suddenly hit him that tall dark and evil was comin to pay a visit.

Erol smiled. _"So nice to see the rumours weren't false. Let me see what I've made." _The KG cracked his neck, widening his stance and smiling wider than before.

Another spasm wracked Jak, and suddenly it happened. Pupils widened to fill the region eyes had once occupied. Muscles tightened and grew. Skin and hair bleached white, teeth tapered and grew. Talons grew where nails had existed. The only reason he hadn't lost his gun is that he'd had the sense to holster it previously.

Muscles flexed, talons splaying out, pupil-less eyes turned to stare at the KG Commander as a growl emanated from a throat distorted by Eco.

"You...won't...touch...him...**I'LL MAKE SURE OF IT**!" With a roar the thing was off, ruined boots left behind, claws throwing up sparks in his single minded determination to rip this thing limb from bloody limb.

To say Erol's face showed surprise is an understatement, but his skills as a fighter can't be forgotten. With a quick movement, he sidestepped, and using the momentum turned and laid a boot in Dark's spine, causing him to overbalance and hurtle through a rack of rifles, leaving Daxter sprawled in front of a hole in the rack as he went through the other side.

"_Well well. Look what the Eco-freak drug in."_ Erol grinned sadistically while walking to the swaying Ottsel. Until of course, the several-ton, 12-foot long gun-rack was ripped from it's housing, lifted 7 feet in the air, with an enraged Eco-Demon underneath it."

"_Oh..."_ An explicative later and the Commander was running full pelt from the impromptu projectile. As he managed to leap over the rack as it screeched passed him he was barely in time to roll under the talons which swiped over where his head had been seconds earlier. He was gripped by his armour, raised to look into the bottomless pools of black.

"Mine." Was the growled word, the tone gravelly as it travelled through sinew only used to scream and vent rage. This was followed by a whip-like sensation and sudden speed, as Erol flew through the air, punched through three racks and crumbled in a heap below the last one. He was quick to rise, hissing in pain, then rapidly sidestepping as Claws swiped into the metal he had occupied naught but seconds previous.

With a screech, the claws were withdrawn, and swung at him. One, two, before developing into an unending onslaught of blades and muscle. Anything which got in the way of said objects was promptly destroyed. Something Erol both noticed and set about ensuring didn't happen to him.

When Jak overextended himself with on swipe, Erol lashed forward, tightly coiled muscle delivering a punch which would have landed most people cold. The hit drew a little blood from Dark's lip, as well as pushing him back. Straightening, he stood still, as Erol watched in fascination as it healed over in seconds.

Growling, the light Commander set into an attack of his own, fists and legs blurring. Punches landed, and kicks punched the being back. Growling, the Commander contorted, whiplashing his boot at his opponents face. For the first time though, the demon leaned back, allowing the foot to pass un-hindered.

With his momentum carrying him round, there was little Erol could do to top the claws.

It was in this moment of surprise that Dark Jak struck. In a burst of lightning, a clawed arm slashed forward. It met cloth, then flesh and finally bone. All gave, and both watched, one in Fascination one in horror, as Erol's left arm from finger to elbow fell to the floor. With a scream of pain, the Commander fell to his knees, clutching the remaining stump in horror.

With a sickening smile, the Devil stepped forward to finish his handy work.

Fate had a strange way of working, Erol was saved by the bell, or rather, by the voice.

"**Warning! Detonation imminent in T-Minus one minute. All personnel evacuate. Repeat. War..."**

With a growl the Devil turned, and grasped the shaking Ottsel from his shoulder. With a spring of muscle, Dark Jak sprinted towards the Hanger door some two hundred feet away. With a furious growl, Errol reached for his pistol, wincing at the blood loss from those precious few seconds. Regretting what he was doing already, the Commander shot the stump with a yellow eco bolt. Cauterising the wound. With another choked scream, he rose and sprinted for the Maintenance Elevator he had arrived on, un-noticed by the Demolition duo. Wobbling with every step from the unbalance caused by the lost limb.

Meanwhile Daxter was screaming high-pitched obscenities at every god and elf on the planet as he was wrenched around in Darkies grip in a frantic dash for the finish. Looking up he saw the insane grin on his friends face. Eyes focussed on the path. Leaping over falling racks and dashing round corners at top speed not pausing to break.

"**WARNING! WARNING! WARNING! THIRTY SECONDS TILL DETONATION! EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY."**

Time slowed to a crawl. Daxter found it easy to keep count with his frantic heart beat. He leisurely watched as a flash of light lit up all the walls at once. Watched as bits of shrapnel flew past them. Heard with perfect clarity the dull bone-shuddering thump of the warhead's detonation. And the screech of tearing metal as Darkies claws cleaved into the floor, propelling them even faster. Unbidden, and unexpected words from a song found themselves voiced in his head.

" I gotta go faster! Keep up the pace! Just to stay in the Elvin race!"

And as the pulse accelerated them even faster, he found that manic spark within himself roaring it's content and demanding more. Giving birth to the grin on his face as he screamed into the tornado of sound and wind.

" I could go supersonic", the problems chronic!  
Tell me does life exist beyond it?  
When I need to sate, I just accelerate!  
Into oblivion!"

Manic laughter escaped him, drawing a strange yet excited look from dark. The speed increased. And as they passed by the technological marvels being stripped to atoms. The next verse voiced itself.

"Well here I go again. Everything is alien! How does it feel to be outstripped by the pace of cultural change?  
My deeds are senseless and rendered meaningless,  
When measured in that vein,  
I could go su-perso-nic!, the problems chronic!"

Then he was flying through the air, curled within the protective grasp of his partner, the stomach sinking sensation bringing him to his senses. Shrapnel and flames shot past and over them, as their trajectory arced towards the houses below. With a crash they flashed through one, two, three floors, breaking through a table and hitting the floor.

The family having breakfast was surprised to say the least. Uncurling, Dark-Jak sprung to his feet, delivered a comical salute to the family, and with Daxter in tow, bolted out the door towards the slums, leaving deep gouges in the Duracrete and Metatron paving.

A hectic fifteen minutes passed as the flew through the city streets, free of hassle due to the focus of the guards attention. They passed by stunned and scared Havenites and bowled through groups of them whenever the need called. Most 'slummers' were aware enough to jump out of the way, and the few under-ground members active tried to stop them, being passed by outstanding contortions and flips by the still excited Dark-Jak.

By the time they had rounded the corner to the headquarters they had attracted much attention, but most had given up the chase long before. As the raced at top speed to the wall, it opened and a very stunned underground member

Had time to have his nose kissed by the sudden weight on his chest, before he fell to the floor, very befuddled.

They burst through the first door before the cannon had time to even see them.

Not saying a word, Daxter jumped from his friends grasp to the large table before them, ignored Torn's stunned expression, and poured himself a mug of the Underground leaders very strong coffee, downing the fresh brew in one gulp.

What Torn was stunned for, was that he had a very excited eco-Demon grinning at him. White skin, Black eyes, extended sharp claws and sharp teeth, do not a comforting grin make.

Daxter chose that moment to speak. "The base is fried, the armoury's toast and probably Erol with it. The creepy dude is Jak." This was said with a jerked thumb.

The 'creepy dude' in mention waved. The move made more threatening by the six-inch-long lethality's mounted on said hand. At that point, Jak's eco supply ran out, and with a crackle of dark Eco, painfully transformed back. Jak collapsed onto the nearest available chair, clutching his head.

"Goddamnit! My head feels like it's been used as a Lurker-Drum." Gripping his temples in pain, Jak didn't see Daxter rolling his eyes.

"Well at least you aren't sporting a stump. Hah, you sure showed that Erol bastard!"

At this, Jak brightened, his ears perking, then simultaneously lowering as the recent emotional chat with Daxter rose from his memories.

He was drawn from his reverie when Daxter alighted on his shoulder saying, "This place has waayyyyy too much excitement. We ough'ta move back to the country."

Torn took this moment to butt in.

"I don't wanna know...so the Ammo Dump's been terminated?" Piercing grey eyes gripped their attention, drawing a nod from both.

"Well in that case get some rest, I ain't got anything for you just now. If you want to do something constructive, I suggest you go to the Target Range in the Harbour. Now if you don't mind, Get Out."

His finger pointed out the door.

Rising, Jak delivered a salute, and stepped out the door. Leaving Torn to gape at his back.

Partly to relieve the shock of what he'd seen.

Mainly from the large chunks of shrapnel embedded in Jak's back.


End file.
